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LACTANTIUS
THE DIVINE INSTITUTES, BOOKS V-VI
[Translated by the Rev. William Fletcher, D.D.]
BOOK V.
OF JUSTICE.
CHAP. I.--OF THE NON-CONDEMNATION OF ACCUSED PERSONS WITHOUT A HEARING OF
THEIR CAUSE; FROM WHAT CAUSE PHILOSOPHERS DESPISED THE SACRED WRITINGS; OF
THE FIRST ADVOCATES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
I ENTERTAIN no doubt, O mighty Emperor Constantine,(1)--since they are
impatient through excessive superstition,--that if any one of those who are
foolishly religious should take in hand this work of ours, in which that
matchless Creator of all things and Ruler of this boundless world is
asserted, he would even assail it with abusive language, and perhaps,
having scarcely read the beginning, would dash it to the ground, cast it
from him, curse it, and think himself contaminated and bound by inexpiable
guilt if he should patiently read. or hear these things. We demand,
however, from this man, if it is possible, by the right of human nature,(2)
that he should not condemn before that he knows the whole matter. For if
the right of defending themselves is given to sacrilegious persons, and to
traitors and sorcerers, and if it is lawful for no one to be condemned
beforehand, his cause being as yet untried, we do not appear to ask
unjustly, that if there shall be any one who shall have fallen upon this
subject, if he shall read it, he read it throughout if he shall hear it,
that he put off the forming of an opinion until the end. But I know the
obstinacy of men; we shall never succeed in obtaining this. For they fear
lest they should be overcome by us, and be compelled at length to yield,
truth itself crying out. They interrupt, therefore, and make hindrances,
that they may not hear; and close their eyes, that they may not see the
light which we present to them. Wherefore they themselves plainly show
their distrust in their own abandoned system, since they neither venture to
investigate, nor to engage with as, because they know that they are easily
overpowered.And therefore, discussion being taken away,
"Wisdom is driven from among them, they have recourse to violence"
as Ennius says; and because they eagerly endeavour to condemn as guilty
those whom they plainly know to be innocent, they are unwilling to be
agreed respecting innocence itself; as though, in truth, it were a greater
injustice to have condemned innocence, when proved to be such, than
unheard. But, as I said, they are afraid lest, if they should hear, they
should be unable to condemn.
And therefore they torture, put to death, and banish the worshippers of
the Most High God, that is, the righteous; nor are they, who so vehemently
hate, themselves able to assign the causes of their hatred. Because they
are themselves in error, they are angry with those who follow the path of
truth; and when they are able to correct themselves, they greatly
increase(3) their errors by cruel deeds, they are stained with the blood of
the innocent, and they tear away with violence souls dedicated to God from
the lacerated bodies. Such are the men with whom we now endeavour to engage
and to dispute: these are the men whom we would lead away from a foolish
persuasion to the truth, men who would more readily drink blood than imbibe
the words of the righteous. What then? Will our labour be in vain? By no
means. For if we shall not be able to deliver these from death, to which
they are hastening with the greatest speed; if we cannot recall them from
that devious path to life and light, since they themselves oppose their own
safety; yet we shall strengthen those who belong to us, whose opinion is
not settled, and founded and fixed with solid roots. For many of them
waver, and especially those who have any acquaintance with literature. For
in this respect philosophers, and orators, and poets are pernicious,
because they are easily able to ensnare unwary souls by the sweetness of
their discourse, and of their poems flowing with delightful modulation.
These are sweets(1) which conceal poison. And on this account I wished to
connect wisdom with religion, that that vain system may not at all injure
the studious; so that now the knowledge of literature may not only be of no
injury to religion and righteousness, but may even be of the greatest
profit, if he who has learned it should be more instructed in virtues and
wiser in truth.
Moreover, even though it should be profitable to no other, it certainly
will be so to us: the conscience will delight itself, and the mind will
rejoice that it is engaged in the light of truth, which is the food of the
soul, being overspread with an incredible kind of pleasantness.But we must
not despair. Perchance
"We sing not to the deaf."(2)
For neither are affairs in so bad a condition that there are no sound minds
to which the truth may be pleasing, and which may both see and follow the
right course when it is pointed out to them. Only let the cup be
anointed(3) with the heavenly honey of wisdom, that the bitter remedies may
be drunk by them unawares, without any annoyance, whilst the first
sweetness of taste by its allurenment conceals, under the cover(4) of
pleasantness, the bitterness of the harsh flavour. For this is especially
the cause why, with the wise and the learned, and the princes of this
world, the sacred Scriptures are without credit, because the prophets spoke
in common and simple language, as though they spoke to the people. And
therefore they are despised by those who are willing to hear or read
nothing except that which is polished and eloquent; nor is anything able to
remain fixed in their minds, except that which charms their ears by a more
soothing sound. But those things which appear humble(5) are considered
anile, foolish, and common. So entirely do they regard nothing as true,
except that which is pleasant to the ear; nothing as credible, except that
which can excite(6) pleasure: no one estimates(7) a subject by its truth,
but by its embellishment. Therefore they do not believe the sacred
writings, because they are without any pretence;(8) but they do not even
believe those who explain them, because they also are either altogether
ignorant, or at any rate possessed of little learning. For it very rarely
happens that they are wholly eloquent; and the cause of this is evident.
For eloquence is subservient to the world, it desires to display itself to
the people, and to please in things which are evil; since it often
endeavours to overpower the truth, that it may show its power; it seeks
wealth, desires honours; in short, it demands the highest degree of
dignity. Therefore it despises these subjects as low; it avoids secret
things as contrary to itself, inasmuch as it rejoices in publicity, and
longs for the multitude and celebrity. Hence it comes to pass that wisdom
and truth need suitable heralds. And if by chance any of the learned have
betaken themselves to it, they have not been sufficient for its defence.
Of those who are known to me, Minucius Felix was of no ignoble rank
among pleaders. His book, which bears the title of Octavius, declares how
suitable a maintainer of the truth he might have been, if he had given
himself altogether to that pursuit.(9) Septimius Tertullianus also was
skilled in literature of every kind; but in eloquence he had little
readiness, and was not sufficiently polished, and very obscure. Not even
therefore did he find sufficient renown. Cyprianus, therefore, was above
all others(10) distinguished and renowned, since he had sought great glory
to himself from the profession of the art of oratory, and he wrote very
many things worthy of admiration in their particular class. For he was of a
turn of mind which was ready, copious, agreeable, and (that which is the
greatest excellence of style) plain and open; so that you cannot determine
whether he was more embellished in speech, or more ready in explanation, or
more powerful in persuasion. And yet he is unable to please those who are
ignorant of the mystery except by his words; inasmuch as the things which
he spoke are mystical, and prepared with this object, that they may be
heard by the faithful only: in short, he is accustomed to be derided by the
learned men of this age, to whom his writings have happened to be known. I
have heard of a certain man who was skilful indeed, who by the change of a
single letter called him Coprianus,(11) as though he were one who had
applied to old women's fables a mind which was elegant and fitted for
better things. But if this happened to him whose eloquence is not
unpleasant, what then must we suppose happens to those whose discourse is
meagre and displeasing, who could have had neither the power of persuasion,
nor subtlety in arguing, nor any severity at all for refuting?
CHAP. II.--TO WHAT AN EXTENT THE CHRISTIAN TRUTH HAS BEEN ASSAILED BY RASH
MEN.
Therefore, because there have been wanting among us suitable and
skilful teachers, who might vigorously and sharply refute public errors,
and who might defend the whole cause of truth with elegance and
copiousness, this very want incited some to venture to write against the
truth, which was unknown to them. I pass by those who in former times in
vain assailed it. When I was teaching rhetorical learning in Bithynia,
having been called thither, and it had happened that at the same time the
temple of God was overthrown, there were living at the same place two men
who insulted the truth as it lay prostrate and overthrown, I know not
whether with greater arrogance or harshness: the one of whom professed
himself the high priest of philosophy;(1) but he was so addicted to vice,
that, though a teacher of abstinence, he was not less inflamed with avarice
than with lusts; so extravagant in his manner of living, that though in his
school he was the maintainer of virtue, the praiser of parsimony and
poverty, be dined less sumptuously in a palace than at his own house.
Nevertheless he sheltered(2) his vices by his hair(3) and his cloak, and
(that which is the greatest screen(4)) by his riches; and that he might
increase these, he used to penetrate with wonderful effort s to the
friendships of the judges; and he suddenly attached them to himself by the
authority of a fictitious name, not only that he might make a traffic of
their decisions, but also that he might by this influence hinder his
neighbours, whom he was driving froth their homes and lands, from the
recovery of their property. This man, in truth, who overthrew his own
arguments by his character, or censured his own character by his arguments,
a weighty censor and most keen accuser against himself, at the very same
time in which a righteous peopIe were impiously assailed, vomited forth
three books against the Christian religion and name; professing, above all
things, that it was the office of a philosopher to remedy the errors of
men, and to recall them to the true way, that is, to the worship of the
gods, by whose power and majesty, as he said, the world is governed; and
not to permit that inexperienced men should be enticed by the frauds of
any, lest their simplicity should be a prey and sustenance to crafty men.
Therefore he said that he had undertaken this office, worthy of
philosophy, that he might hold out to those who do not see the light of
wisdom, not only that they may return to a healthy state of mind, having
undertaken the worship of the gods, but also that, having laid aside their
pertinacious obstinacy, they may avoid tortures of the body, nor wish in
vain to endure cruel lacerations of their limbs. But that it might be
evident on what account he had laboriously worked out that task, he broke
out profusely into praises of the princes, whose piety and foresight, as he
himself indeed said, had been distinguished both in other matters, and
especially in defending the religious rites of the gods; that he had, in
short, consulted the interests of men, in order that, impious and foolish
superstition having been restrained, all men might have leisure for lawful
sacred rites, and might experience the gods propitious to them. But when he
wished to weaken the grounds of that religion against which he was
pleading, he appeared senseless, vain, and ridiculous; because that weighty
adviser of the advantage of others was ignorant not only what to oppose,
but even what to speak. For if any of our religion were present, although
they were silent on account of the time, nevertheless in their mind they
derided him; since they saw a man professing that he would enlighten
others, when he himself was blind; that he would recall others from error,
when he himself was ignorant where to plant his feet; that he would
instruct others to the truth, of which he himself had never seen even a
spark at any time; inasmuch as he who was a professor of wisdom,
endeavoured to overthrow wisdom. All, however, censured this, that he
undertook this work at that time in particular, in which odious cruelty
raged. O philosopher, a flatterer, and a time-server! But this man was
despised, as his vanity deserved; for he did not gain the popularity which
he hoped for, and the glory which he eagerly sought for was changed into
censure and blame.(6)
Another(7) wrote the same subject with more bitterness, who was then of
the number of the judges, and who was especially the adviser of enacting
persecution; and not contented with this crime, he also pursued with
writings those whom he bad persecuted. For he composed two books, not
against the Christians, test he might appear to assail them in a hostile
manner but to the Christians, that he might be thought to consult for them
with humanity and kindness. And in these writings he endeavoured so to
prove the falsehood of sacred Scripture, as though it were altogether
contradictory to itself; for he expounded some chapters which seemed to be
at variance with themselves, enumerating so many and such secret(1) things,
that he sometimes appears to have been one of the same sect. But if this
was so, what Demosthenes will be able to defend from the charge of impiety
him who became the betrayer of the religion to which he had given his
assent,(2) and of the faith the name of which he had assumed,(3) and of the
mystery(4) which he had received, unless it happened by chance that the
sacred writings fell into his hands? What rashness was it, therefore, to
dare to destroy that which no one explained to him! It was well that he
either learned nothing or understood nothing. For contradiction is as far
removed from the sacred writings as he was removed from faith and truth. He
chiefly, however, assailed Paul and Peter, and the other disciples, as
disseminators of deceit whom at the same time he testified to have been
unskilled and unlearned. For he says that some of them made gain by the
craft of fishermen, as though he took it ill that some Aristophanes or
Aristarchus did not devise that subject.
CHAP. III.--OF THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE, AND THE VANITY OF ITS
ADVERSARIES; AND THAT CHRIST WAS NOT A MAGICIAN.
The desire of inventing,(5) therefore, and craftiness were absent from
these men, since they were unskilful. Or what unlearned man could invent
things adapted to one another, and coherent, when the most learned of the
philosophers, Plato and Aristotle, and Epicurus and Zeno, themselves spoke
things at variance with one another, and contrary? For this is the nature
of falsehoods, that they cannot be coherent. But their teaching, because it
is true, everywhere agrees,(6) and is altogether consistent with itself;
and on this account it effects persuasion, because it is based on a
consistent plan. They did not therefore devise that religion for the sake
of gain and advantage, inasmuch as both by their precepts and in reality
they followed that course of life which is without pleasures, and despised
all things which are reckoned among good things, and since they not only
endured death for their faith, but also both knew and foretold that they
were about to die, and afterwards that all who followed their system would
suffer cruel and impious things. But he(7) affirmed that Christ Himself was
put to flight by the Jews, and having collected a band of nine hundred men,
committed robberies. Who would venture to oppose so great an authority? We
must certainly believe this, for perchance some Apollo announced it to him
in his slumbers. So many robbers have at all times perished, and do perish
daily, and you yourself have certainly condemned many: which of them after
his crucifixion was called, I will not say a God, but a man? But you
perchance believed it from the circumstance of your having consecrated the
homicide Mars as a god, though you would not have done this if the
Areopagites had crucified him.
The same man, when he endeavoured to overthrow his wonderful deeds, and
did not however deny them, wished to show that Apollonius(8) performed
equal or even greater deeds. It is strange that he omitted to mention
Apuleius,(9) of whom many and wonderful things are accustomed to be
related. Why therefore, O senseless one, does no one worship Apollonius in
the place of God? unless by chance you alone do so, who are worthy forsooth
of that god, with whom the true God will punish you everlastingly. If
Christ is a magician because He performed wonderful deeds, it is plain that
Apollonius, who, according to your-description. when Domitian wished to
punish him, suddenly disappeared on his trial, was more skilful than He who
was both arrested and crucified. But perhaps he wished from this very thing
to prove the arrogance of Christ, in that He made Himself God, that the
other may appear to have been more modest, who, though he performed greater
actions, as this one thinks, nevertheless did not claim that for himself. I
omit at present to compare the works themselves, because in the second and
preceding book I have spoken respecting the fraud and tricks of the magic
art. I say that there is no one who would not wish that that should
especially befall him after death which even the greatest kings desire. For
why do men prepare for themselves magnificent sepulchres? why statues and
images? why by some illustrious deeds, or even by death undergone in behalf
of their countrymen, do they endeavour to deserve the good opinions of men?
Why, in short, have you yourself wished to raise a monument of your talent,
built with this detestable folly, as if with mud, except that you hope for
immortality from the remembrance of your name? It is foolish, therefore, to
imagine that Apollonius did not desire that which he would plainly wish for
if he were able to attain to it; because there is no one who refuses
immortality, and especially when you say that he was both adored by some as
a god, and that his image was set up under the name of Hercules, the
averter of evil, and is even now honoured by the Ephesians.
He could not therefore after death be believed to be a god, because it
was evident that he was both a man and a magician; and for this reason he
affected(1) divinity under the title of a name belonging to another, for in
his own name he was unable to attain it, nor did he venture to make the
attempt. But he of whom we speak(2) could both be believed to be a god,
because he was not a magician, and was believed to be such because he was
so in truth. I do not say this, he says, that Apollonius was not accounted
a god, because he did not wish it, but that it may be evident that we, who
did not at once connect a belief in his divinity with wonderful deeds, are
wiser than you, who on account of slight wonders believed that he was a
god. It is not wonderful if you, who are far removed from the wisdom of
God, understand nothing at all of those things which you have read, since
the Jews, who from the beginning had frequently read the prophets, and to
whom the mystery(3) of God had been assigned, were nevertheless ignorant of
what they read. Learn, therefore, if you have any sense, that Christ was
not believed by us to be God on this account, because He did wonderful
things, but because we saw that all things were done in His case which were
announced to us by the prediction of the prophets. He performed wonderful
deeds: we might have supposed Him to be a magician, as you now suppose Him
to be, and the Jews then supposed Him, if all the prophets did not with one
accord(4) proclaim that Christ would do those very things. Therefore we
believe Him to be God, not more from His wonderful deeds and works, than
from that very cross which you as dogs lick, since that also was predicted
at the same time. It was not therefore on His own testimony (for who can be
believed when he speaks concerning himself?, but on the testimony of the
prophets who long before foretold all things which He did and suffered,
that He gained a belief in His divinity, which could have happened neither
to Apollonius,(5) nor to Apuleius, nor to any of the magicians; nor can it
happen at any time. When, therefore, he had poured forth such absurd
ravings(6) of his ignorance, when he had eagerly endeavoured utterly to
destroy the truth, he dared to give to his books which were impious and the
enemies of God the title of "truth-loving." O blind breast! O mind more
black than Cimmerian darkness, as they say! He may perhaps have been a
disciple of Anaxagoras,(7) to whom snows were as black as ink. But it is
the same blindness, to give the name of falsehood to truth, and of truth to
falsehood. Doubtless the crafty man wished to conceal the wolf under the
skin of a sheep,(8) that he might ensnare the reader by a deceitful title.
Let it be true; grant that you did this from ignorance, not from malice:
what truth, however, have you brought to us, except that, being a defender
of the gods, you had at last betrayed those very gods? For, having set
forth the praises of the Supreme God, whom you confessed to be king, most
mighty, the maker of all things, the fountain of honours, the parent of
all, the creator and preserver of all living creatures, you took away the
kingdom from your own Jupiter; and when you had driven him from the supreme
power, you reduced him to the rank of servants. Thus your own conclusion(9)
convicts you of folly, vanity, and error. For you affirm that the gods
exist, and yet you subject and enslave them to that God whose religion you
attempt to overturn.
CHAP.IV.--WHY THIS WORK WAS PUBLISHED, AND AGAIN OF TERTULLIAN AND CYPRIAN.
Since, therefore, they of whom I have spoken had set forth their
sacrilegious writings in my presence, and to my grief, being incited both
by the arrogant impiety of these, and by the consciousness of truth itself,
and (as I think) by God, I have undertaken this office, that with all the
strength of my mind I might refute the accusers of righteousness; not that
I should write against these, who might be crushed with a few words, but
that I might once for all by one attack overthrow all who everywhere
effect, or have effected, the same work. For I do not doubt that very many
others, and in many places, and that not only in Greek, but also in Latin
writings, have raised a monument of their own unrighteousness. And since i
was not able to reply to these separately, I thought that this cause was to
be so pleaded by me that I might overthrow former writers, together with
all their writings, and cut off from future writers the whole power of
writing and of replying.(1) Only let them attend, and I will assuredly
effect that whosoever shall know these things, must either embrace that
which he before condemned, or, which is next to it, cease at length to
deride it. Although Tertullian fully pleaded the same cause in that
treatise which is entitled the Apology,(2) yet, inasmuch as it is one thing
to answer accusers, which consists in defence or denial only, and another
thing to instruct, which we do, in which the substance of the whole system
must be contained, I have not shrunk from this labour, that I might
complete the subject, which Cyprian did not fully carry out in that
discourse in which he endeavours to refute Demetrianus (as he himself says)
railing at and clamouring(3) against the truth. Which subject he did not
handle as he ought to have done; for he ought to have been refuted not by
the testimonies of Scripture, which he plainly considered vain,
fictitious, and false, but by arguments and reason. For, since he was
contending against a man who was ignorant of the truth, he ought for a
while to have laid aside divine readings, and to have formed from the
beginning this man as one who was altogether ignorant,(4) and to have
shown to him by degrees the beginnings of light, that he might not be
dazzled,(5) the whole of its brightness being presented to him.(6)
For as an infant is unable, on account of the tenderness of its
stomach, to receive the nourishment of solid and strong food, but is
supported by liquid and soft milk, until, its strength being confirmed, it
can feed on stronger nourishment; so also it was befitting that this man,
because he was not yet capable of receiving divine things, should be
presented with human testimonies--that is, of philosophers and historians -
-in order that he might especially be refuted by his own authorities. And
since he did not do this, being carried away by his distinguished knowledge
of the sacred writings, so that he was content with those things alone in
which faith consists, I have undertaken, with the favour of God, to do
this, and at the same time to prepare the way for the imitation of others.
And if, through my exhortation, learned and eloquent men shall begin to
betake themselves to this subject, and shall choose to display their
talents and power of speaking in this field of truth, no one can doubt that
false religions will quickly disappear, and philosophy altogether fall, if
all shall be persuaded that this alone is religion and the only true
wisdom. But I have wandered from the subject further than I wished.
CHAP. V.--THERE WAS TRUE JUSTICE UNDER SATURNUS, BUT IT WAS BANISHED BY
JUPITER.
Now the promised disputation concerning justice must be given; which is
either by itself the greatest virtue, or by itself the fountain of virtue,
which not only philosophers sought, but poets also, who were much earlier,
and were esteemed as wise before the origin of the name of philosophy.
These clearly understood that this justice was absent from the affairs of
men; and they feigned that it, being offended with the vices of men,
departed from the earth, and withdrew to heaven; and that they may teach
what it is to live justly (for they are accustomed to give precepts by
circumlocutions), they repeat examples of justice from the times of
Saturnus, which they call the golden times, and they relate in what
condition human life was while it delayed on the earth.(7) And this is not
to be regarded as a poetic fiction, but as the truth. For, while Saturnus
reigned, the religious worship of the gods not having yet been instituted,
nor any(8) race being as yet set apart in the belief of its divinity, God
was manifestly worshipped. And therefore there were neither dissensions,
nor enmities, nor wars.
"Not yet had rage unsheathed maddened swords,"
as Germanicus Caesar speaks in his poem translated from Aratus,(9)
"Nor had discord been known among relatives."
No, nor even among strangers: but there were no swords at all to be
unsheathed. For who, when justice was present and in vigour, would think
respecting his own protection, since no one plotted against him; or
respecting the destruction of another, since no one desired anything?
"They, preferred to live content with a simple mode of life,"
as Cicero(10) relates in his poem; and this is peculiar to our religion.
"It was not even allowed to mark out or to divide the plain with a
boundary: men sought all things in common;"(11) since God had given the
earth in common to all, that they might pass their life in common, not that
mad and raging avarice might claim all things for itself, and that that
which was produced for all might not be wanting to any. And this saying of
the poet ought so to be taken, not as suggesting the idea that individuals
at that time had no private property, but it must be regarded as a poetical
figure; that we may understand that men were so liberal, that they did not
shut up the fruits of the earth produced for them, nor did they in solitude
brood over the things stored up, but admitted the poor to share the fruits
of their labour:--
"Now streams of milk, now streams of nectar flowed."(1)
And no wonder, since the storehouses of the good liberally lay open to all.
Nor did avarice intercept the divine bounty, and thus cause hunger and
thirst in common but all alike had abundance, since they who had
possessions gave liberally and bountifully to those who had not. But after
that Saturnus had been banished from heaven, and had arrived in Latium,--
"Exiled from his throne
By Jove, his mightier heir,"(2)--
since the people either through fear of the new king, or of their own
accord, had become corrupted and ceased to worship God, and had begun to
esteem the king in the place of Cool, since he himself, almost a parricide,
was an example to others to the injury of piety,--
"The most just Virgin in haste deserted the lands;"(3)
but not as Cicero says,(4)
"And settled, in the kingdom of Jupiter, and in a part of the heaven."
For how could she settle or tarry in the kingdom of him who expelled his
father from his kingdom, harassed him with war, and drove him as an exile
over the whole world?
"He gave to the black serpents their noxious poison,
And ordered wolves to prowl;(6)
that is, he introduced among men hatred, and envy, and stratagem; so that
they were poisonous as serpents, and rapacious as wolves. And they truly do
this who persecute those who are righteous and faithful towards God, and
give to judges the power of using violence against the innocent. Perhaps
Jupiter may have done something of this kind for the overthrow and removal
of righteousness; and on this account he is related to have made serpents
fierce, and to have whetted the spirit of wolves.
"Then war's indomitable rage,
And greedy lust of gain;"(7)
and not without reason. For the worship of God being taken away, men lost
the knowledge of good and evil. Thus the common intercourse of life
perished from among then, and the bond of human society was destroyed. Then
they began to contend with one another, and to plot, and to acquire for
themselves glory from the shedding of human blood.
CHAP. VI.--AFTER THE BANISHMENT OF JUSTICE, LUST, UNJUST LAWS, DARING,
AVARICE, AMBITION, PRIDE, IMPIETY, AND OTHER VICES REIGNED.
And the source of all these evils was lust; which, indeed, burst forth
from the contempt of true majesty. For not only did they who had a
superfluity fail to bestow a share upon others, but they even seized the
property of others, drawing everything to their private gain; and the
things which formerly even individuals laboured to obtain for the common
use of men,(8) were now conveyed to the houses of a few. Far, that they
might subdue others by slavery, they began especially to withdraw and
collect together the necessaries of life, and to keep them firmly shut up,
that they might make the bounties of heaven their own; not on account of
kindness,(9) a feeling which had no existence in them, but that they might
sweep together all the instruments of lust and avarice. They also, tinder
the name of justice, passed most unequal and unjust laws, by which they
might defend their plunder and avarice against the force of the multitude.
They prevailed, therefore, as much by authority as by strength, or
resources, or malice. And since there was in them no trace of justice, the
offices of which are humanity, equity, pity, they now began to rejoice in a
proud and swollen inequality, and made(10) themselves higher than other
men, by a retinue of attendants, and by the sword, and by the brilliancy of
their garments. For this reason they invented for themselves honours, and
purple robes, and fasces, that, being supported by the terror produced by
axes and swords, they might, as it were by the right of masters, rule them,
stricken with fear, and alarmed. Such was the condition in which the life
of man was placed by that king who, having defeated and put to flight a
parent, did not seize his kingdom, but set up an impious tyranny by
violence and armed men, and took away that golden age of justice, and
compelled men to become wicked and impious, even from this very
circumstance, that he turned them away from God to the worship of himself;
and the terror of his excessive power had extorted this.
For who would not fear him who was girded about with arms, whom the
unwonted gleam of steel and swords surrounded? Or what stranger would he
spare who had not even spared his own father? Whom, in truth, should he
fear, who had conquered in war, and destroyed by massacre the race of the
Titans, which was strong and excelling in might? What wonder if the whole
multitude, pressed by unusual fear, had given themselves up to the
adulation of a single man? Him they venerated, to him they paid the
greatest honour. And since it is judged to be a kind of obsequiousness to
imitate the customs and vices of a king, all men laid aside piety, lest, if
they should live piously, they might seem to upbraid the wickedness of the
king. Thus, being corrupted by continual imitation, they abandoned divine
right, and the practice of living wickedly by degrees became a habit. And
now nothing remained of the pious and excellent condition of the preceding
age; but justice being banished, and drawing with her the truth, left to
men error, ignorance, and blindness. The poets therefore were ignorant, who
sung that she fled to heaven, to the kingdom of Jupiter. For if justice was
on the earth in the age which they call "golden," it is plain that she was
driven away by Jupiter, who changed the golden age. But the change of the
age and the expulsion of justice is to be deemed nothing else, as I have
said, than the laying aside of divine religion, which alone effects that
man should esteem man dear, and should know that he is bound to him by the
tie of brotherhood, since God is alike a Father to all, so as to share the
bounties of the common God and Father with those who do not possess them;
to injure no one, to oppress no one, not to close his door against a
stranger, nor his ear against a suppliant, but to be bountiful, beneficent,
and liberal, which Tullius(1) thought to be praises suitable to a king.
This truly is justice, and this is, the golden age, which was first
corrupted when Jupiter reigned, and shortly afterwards, when he himself and
all his offspring were consecrated as gods, and the worship of many deities
undertaken, had been altogether taken away.
CHAP. VII.--OF THE COMING OF JESUS, AND ITS FRUIT; AND OF THE VIRTUES AND
VICES OF THAT AGE.
But God, as a most indulgent parent, when the last time approached,
sent a messenger to bring back that old age, and justice which had been put
to flight, that the human race might not be agitated by very great and
perpetual errors. Therefore the appearance of that golden time returned,
and justice was restored to the earth, but was assigned to a few; and this
justice is nothing else than the pious and religious worship of the one
God. But perhaps some may be inclined to ask, why, if this be justice, it
is not given to all mankind, and the whole multitude does not agree to it.
This is a matter of great disputation, why a difference was retained by God
when He gave justice to the earth; and this I have shown in another place,
and whenever a favourable opportunity shall occur it shall be explained.
Now it is sufficient very briefly to signify it: that virtue can neither be
discerned, unless it has vices opposed to it; nor be perfect, unless it is
exercised by adversity.(2) For God designed that there should be this
distinction between good and evil things, that we may know from that which
is evil the quality of the good, and also the quality of the evil from the
good; nor can the nature of the one be understood if the other is taken
away. God therefore did not exclude evil, that the nature of virtue might
be evident. For how could patient endurance(3) retain its meaning and name
if there were nothing which we were compelled to endure?(4) How could faith
devoted to its God deserve praise, unless there were some one who wished to
turn us away from God? For on this account He permitted the unjust to be
more powerful, that they might be able to compel to evil; and on this
account to be more numerous, that virtue might be precious, because it is
rare. And this very point is admirably and briefly shown by Quintilian in
"the muffled head."(5) "For what virtue," he says, "would there be in
innocence, had not its rarity furnished it with praises? But because it is
provided by nature that hatred, desire, and anger drive men blindly to that
object to which they have applied themselves, to be free from fault appears
to be beyond the power of man. Otherwise, if nature had given to all men
equal affections, piety would be nothing."
How true this is, the necessity of the case itself teaches. For if it
is virtue to resist with fortitude evils and vices, it is evident that,
without evil and vice, there is no perfected virtue; and that God might
render this complete and perfect, He retained that which was contrary to
it, with which it might contend. For, being agitated by evils which harass
it, it gains stability; and in proportion to the frequency with which it is
urged onward, is the firmness with which it is strengthened. This is
evidently the cause which effects that, although justice is sent to men,
yet it cannot be said that a golden age exists; because God has not taken
away evil, that He might retain that diversity which alone preserves the
mystery of a divine religion.
CHAP. VIII.--OF JUSTICE KNOWN TO ALL, BUT NOT EMBRACED; OF THE TRUE TEMPLE
OF GOD, AND OF HIS WORSHIP,THAT ALL VICES MAY BE SUBDUED.
They, therefore, who think that no one is just, have justice before
their eyes, but are unwilling to discern it. For what reason is there why
they should describe it either in poems or in all their discourse,
complaining of its absence, when it is very easy for them to be good if
they wish? Why do you depict to yourselves justice as worthless,(1) and
wish that she may fall from heaven, as it were, represented in some image?
Behold, she is in your sight; receive her, if you are able, and place her
in the abode of your breast; and do not imagine that this is difficult, or
unsuited to the times. Be just and good, and the justice which you seek
will follow you of her own accord. Lay aside every evil thought from your
hearts, and that golden age will at once return to you, which you cannot
attain to by any other means than by beginning to worship the true God. But
you long for justice on the earth, while the worship of false gods
continues, which cannot possibly come to pass. But it was not possible even
at that time when you imagine, because those deities whom you impiously
worship were not yet produced, and the worship of the one God must have
prevailed throughout the earth; of that God, I say, who hates wickedness
and requires goodness; whose temple is not stones or clay, but man himself,
who bears the image of God. And this temple is adorned not with corruptible
gifts of gold and jewels, but with the lasting offices of virtues. Learn,
therefore, if any intelligence is left to you, that men are wicked and
unjust because gods are worshipped; and that all evils daily increase to
the affairs of men on this account, because God the Maker and Governor of
this world has been neglected; because, contrary to that which is right,
impious superstitions have been taken up; and lastly, because you do not
permit God to be worshipped even by a few.
But if God only were worshipped, there would not be dissensions and
wars, since men would know that they are the sons of one God; and,
therefore, among those who were connected by the sacred and inviolable bond
of divine relationship, there would be no plottings, inasmuch as they would
know what kind of punishments God prepared for the destroyers of souls, who
sees through secret crimes, and even the very thoughts themselves. There
would be no frauds or plunderings if they had learned, through the
instruction of God, to be content with that which was their own, though
little, so that they might prefer solid and eternal things to those which
are frail and perishable. There would be no adulteries, and debaucheries,
and prostitution of women, if it were known to all, that whatever is sought
beyond the desire of procreation is condemned by God.(2) Nor would
necessity, compel a woman to dishonour her modesty, to seek for herself a
most disgraceful mode of sustenance; since the males also would restrain
their lust, and the pious and religious contributions of the rich would
succour the destitute. There would not, therefore, as I have said, be these
evils on the earth, if there were by common Consent a general observance(3)
of the law of God, if those things were done by all which our people alone
perform. How happy and how golden would be the condition of human affairs,
if throughout the world gentleness, and piety, and peace, and innocence,
and equity, and temperance, and faith, took up their abode! In short, there
would be no need of so many and varying laws to rule men, since the law of
God alone would be sufficient for perfect innocence; nor would there be any
need of prisons, or the swords of rulers, or the terror of punishments,
since the wholesomeness of the divine precepts infused into the breasts of
men would of itself instruct them to works of justice. But now men are
wicked through ignorance of what is right and good. And this, indeed,
Cicero saw; for, discoursing on the subject of the laws,(4) he says: "As
the world, with all its parts agreeing with one another, coheres and
depends upon one and the same nature, so all men, being naturally confused
among themselves, disagree through depravity; nor do they understand that
they are related by blood, and that they are all subject to one and the
same guardianship: for if this were kept in mind, assuredly men would live
the life of gods." Therefore the unjust and impious worship of the gods has
introduced all the evils by which mankind in turn destroy one another. For
they could not retain their piety, who, as prodigal and rebellious
children, had renounced the authority of Coot, the common parent of all.
CHAP. IX.--OF THE CRIMES OF THE WICKED, AND THE TORTURE INFLICTED ON THE
CHRISTIANS.
At times, however, they perceive that they are wicked, and praise the
condition of the former ages, and conjecture that justice is absent because
of their characters and deserts; for, though she presents herself to their
eyes, they not only fail to receive or recognise her, but they even
violently hate, and persecute, and endeavour to banish her. Let us suppose,
in the meantime, that she whom we follow is not justice: how will they
receive her whom they imagine to be the true justice, if she shall have
come, when they torture and kill those whom they themselves confess to be
imitators of the just, because they perform good and just actions; whereas,
if they should put to death the wicked only, they would deserve to be
unvisited by justice, who had no other reason for leaving the earth than
the shedding of human blood? How much more so when they slay the righteous,
and account the followers of justice themselves as enemies, yea, as more
than enemies; who, though they eagerly seek their lives, and property, and
children by sword and fire, yet are spared when conquered; and there is a
place for clemency even amidst arms; or if they have determined to carry
their cruelty to the utmost, nothing more is done towards them, except that
they are put to death or led away to slavery! But this is unutterable which
is done towards those who are ignorant of crime, and none are regarded as
more guilty than those who are of all men innocent. Therefore most wicked
men venture to make mention of justice, men who surpass wild beasts in
ferocity, who lay waste the most gentle flock of God,--
"Like gaunt wolves rushing from their den,
Whom lawless hunger's sullen growl
Drives forth into the night to prowl."(1)
But these have been maddened not by the fury of hunger, but of the
heart; nor do they prowl in a black mist, but by open plundering; nor does
the consciousness of their crimes ever recall them from profaning the
sacred and holy name of justice with that mouth which, like the jaws of
beasts, is wet with the blood of the innocent. What must we say is
especially the cause of this excessive and persevering hatred?
"Does truth produce hatred,"(2)
as the poet says, as though inspired by the Divine Spirit, or are they
ashamed to be bad in the presence of the just and good? Or is it rather
from both causes? For the truth is always hateful on this account, because
he who sins wishes to have free scope for sinning, and thinks that he
cannot in any other way more securely enjoy the pleasure of his evil
doings, than if there is no one whom his faults may displease. Therefore
they endeavour entirely to exterminate and, take them away as witnesses of
their crimes and wickedness, and think them burthensome to themselves, as
though their life were reproved. For why should any be unseasonably good,
who, when the public morals are corrupted, should censure them by living
well? Why should not all be equally wicked, rapacious, unchaste,
adulterers, perjured, covetous, and fraudulent? Why should they not rather
be taken out of the way, in whose presence they are ashamed to lead an evil
life, who, though not by words, for they are silent, but by their very
course of life, so unlike their own, assail and strike the forehead of
sinners? For whoever disagrees with them appears to reprove them.
Nor is it greatly to be wondered at if these things are done towards
men, since for the same cause the people who were placed in hope,(3) and
not ignorant of God, rose up against God Himself; and the same necessity
follows the righteous which attacked the Author of righteousness Himself.
Therefore they harass and torment them with studied kinds of punishments,
and think it little to kill those whom they hate, unless cruelty also mocks
their bodies. But if any through fear of pain or death, or by their own
perfidy, have deserted the heavenly oath,(4) and have consented to deadly
sacrifices, these they praise and load(5) with honours, that by their ample
they may allure others. But upon those who have highly esteemed their
faith, and have not denied that they are worshippers of God, they fall with
all the strength of their butchery, as though they thirsted for blood; and
they call them desperate,(6) because they by no means spare their body; as
though anything could be more desperate, than to torture and tear in pieces
him whom you know to be innocent. Thus no sense of shame remains among
those from whom all kind feeling is absent, and they retort upon just men
reproaches which are befitting to themselves. For they call them impious,
being themselves forsooth pious, and shrinking from the shedding of human
blood; whereas, if they would consider their own acts, and the acts of
those whom they condemn as impious, they would now understand how false
they are, and more deserving of all those things which they either say or
do against the good. For they are not of our number, but of theirs who
besiege the roads in arms, practise piracy by sea; or if it has not been in
their power openly to assail, secretly mix poisons; who kill their wives
that they may gain their dowries, or their husbands that they may marry
adulterers; who either strangle the sons born from themselves, or if they
are too pious, expose them; who restrain their incestuous passions neither
from a daughter, nor sister, nor mother, nor priestess; who conspire
against their own citizens and country; who do not fear the sack;(1) who,
in fine, commit sacrilege, and despoil the temples of the gods whom they
worship; and, to speak of things which are light and usually practised by
them, who hunt for inheritances, forge wills, either remove or exclude the
just heirs; who prostitute their own persons to lust; who, in short,
unmindful of what they were born, contend with women in passivity;(2) who,
in violation of all propriety,(3) pollute and dishonour the most sacred
part of their body; who mutilate themselves, and that which is more
impious, in order that they may be priests of religion; who do not even
spare their own life, but sell their lives to be taken away in public; who,
if they sit as judges, corrupted by a bribe, either destroy the innocent or
set free the guilty without punishment; who grasp at the heaven itself by
sorceries, as though the earth would not contain their wickedness. These
crimes, I say, and more than these, are plainly committed by those who are
worshippers of the gods.
Amidst these crimes of such number and magnitude, what place is there
for justice? And I have collected a few only out of many, not for the
purpose of censure, but to show their nature. Let those who shall wish to
know all take in hand the books of Seneca, who was at the same time a most
true describer and a most vehement accuser of the public morals and vices.
But Lucilius also briefly and concisely described that dark life in these
verses: "But now from morn to night, on festival and ordinary day alike,
the whole people and the fathers with one accord display themselves in(4)
the forum, and never depart from it. They have all given themselves to one
and the same pursuit and art, that they may be able cautiously to deceive,
to fight treacherously, to contend in flattery, each to pretend that he is
a good man, to lie in wait, as if all were enemies to all." But which of
these things can be laid to the charge of our people,(5) with whom the
whole of religion consists in living without guilt and without spot? Since,
therefore, they see that both they and their people do those things which
we have said, but that ours practise nothing else but that which is just
and good, they might, if they had any understanding, have perceived from
this, both that they who do what is good are pious, and that they
themselves who commit wicked actions are impious. For it is impossible that
they who do not err in all the actions of their life, should err in the
main point, that is, in religion, which is the chief of all things. For
impiety, if taken up in that which is the most important, would follow
through all the rest. And therefore(6) it is impossible that they who err
in the whole of their life should not be deceived also in religion;
inasmuch as piety, if it kept its rule in the chief point, would maintain
its course in others. Thus it happens, that on either side the character of
the main subject may be known from the state of the actions which are
carried on.
CHAP. X.--OF FALSE PIETY, AND OF FALSE AND TRUE RELIGION.
It is worth while to investigate their piety, that from their merciful
and pious actions it may be understood what is the character of those
things which are done by them contrary to the laws of piety. And that I may
not seem to attack any one with harshness, I will take a character from the
poets, and one which is the greatest example of piety.In Maro, that king
"Than who
The breath of being none e'er drew,
More brave, more pious, or more true,"(7)--
what proofs of justice did he bring forward to us?
"There walk with hands fast bound behind
The victim prisoners, designed
For slaughter o'er the flames."(8)
What can be more merciful than this piety? what more merciful than to
immolate human victims to the dead, and to feed the fire with the blood of
men as with oil? But perhaps this may not have been the fault of the hero
himself, but of the poet, who polluted with distinguished wickedness "a man
distinguished by his piety."(9) Where then, O poet, is that piety which you
so frequently praise? Behold the pious AEneas:--
"Four hapless youths of Sulmo's breed,
And four who Ufens call their sire,
He takes alive, condemned to bleed
To Pallas' shade on Pallas' pyre."(10)
Why, therefore, at the very same time when he was sending the men in chains
to slaughter, did he say,
"Fain would I grant the living peace,"(11)
when he ordered that those whom he had in his power alive should be slain
in the place of cattle? But this, as I have said, was not his fault--for he
perhaps had not received a liberal education--but yours; for, though you
were learned, yet you were ignorant of the nature of piety, and you
believed that that wicked and detestable action of his was the befitting
exercise of piety. He is plainly called pious on this account only, because
he loved his father. Why should I say that
"The good AEneas owned their plea,"(1)
and yet slew them? For, though adjured by the same father, and
"By young Iulius' dawning day,"(2)
he did not spare them,
"Live fury kindling every vein"(3)
What! can any one imagine that there was any virtue in him who was fired
with madness as stubble, and, forgetful of the shade of his father. by whom
he was entreated, was unable to curb his wrath? He was therefore by no
means pious who not only slew the unresisting, but even suppliants. Here
some one will say: What then, or where, or of what character is piety?
Truly it is among those who are ignorant of wars, who maintain concord with
all, who are friendly even to their enemies, who love all men as brethren,
who know how to restrain their anger, and to soothe every passion of the
mind with calm government. How great a mist, therefore, how great a cloud
of darkness and errors, has over-spread the breasts of men who, when they
think themselves especially pious, then become especially impious? For the
more religiously they honour those earthy images, so much the more wicked
are they towards the name of the true divinity. And therefore they are
often harassed with greater evils as the reward of their impiety; and
because they know not the cause of these evils, the blame is altogether
ascribed to fortune, and the philosophy of Epicurus finds a place who
thinks that nothing extends to the gods, and that they are neither
influenced by favour nor moved by anger, because they often see their
despisers happy, and their worshippers in misery. And this happens on this
account, because when they seem to be religious and naturally good, they
are believed to deserve nothing of that kind which they often suffer.
However, they console themselves by accusing fortune; nor do they perceive
that if she had any existence, she would never injure her worshippers.
Piety of this kind is therefore deservedly followed by punishment; and the
deity offended with the wickedness of men who are depraved in their
religious worship,(4) punishes them with heavy misfortune; who, although
they live with holiness in the greatest faith and innocence, yet because
they worship gods whose impious and profane rites are an abomination to the
true God, are estranged from justice and the name of true piety. Nor is it
difficult to show why the worshippers of the gods cannot be good and just.
For how shall they abstain from the shedding of blood who worship
bloodthirsty deities, Mars and Bellona? or how shall they spare their
parents who worship Jupiter, who drove out his father? or how shall they
spare their own infants who worship Saturnus? how shall they uphold
chastity who worship a goddess who is naked, and an adulteress, and who
prostitutes herself as it were among the gods? how shall they withhold
themselves from plunder and frauds who are acquainted with the thefts of
Mercurius, who teaches that to deceive is not the part of fraud, but of
cleverness? how shall they restrain their lusts who worship Jupiter,
Hercules, Liber, Apollo, and the others, whose adulteries and debaucheries
with men and women are not only known to the learned, but are even set
forth in the theatres, and made the subject of songs, so that they are
notorious(5) to all? Among these things is it possible for men to be just,
who, although they were naturally good, would be trained to injustice by
the very gods themselves? For, that you may propitiate the god whom you
worship, there is need of those things with which you know that he is
pleased and delighted. Thus it comes to pass that the god fashions the life
of his worshippers according to the character of his own will,(6) since
the most religious worship is to imitate.
CHAP XI.--OF THE CRUELTY OF THE HEATHENS AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS.
Therefore, because justice is burthensome and unpleasant to those men
who agree with the character of their gods, they exercise with violence
against the righteous the same impiety which they show in other things. And
not without reason are they spoken of by the prophets as beasts. Therefore
it is excellently said by Marcus Tullius:(7) "For if there is no one who
would not prefer to die than to be changed into the figure of a beast,
although he is about to have the mind of a man, how much more wretched is
it to be of a brutalized mind in the figure of a man! To me, indeed, it
seems as much worse as the mind is more excellent than the body." Therefore
they view with disdain the bodies of beasts, though they are themselves
more cruel than these; and they pride themselves on this account, that they
were born men, though they have nothing belonging to man except the
features and the eminent figure. For what Caucasus, what India, what
Hyrcania ever nourished beasts so. savage and so bloodthirsty? For the fury
of all wild beasts rages until their appetite is satisfied; and when their
hunger is appeased, immediately is pacified.That is truly a beast by whose
command alone
"With rivulets of slaughter reeks
The stern embattled field."
"Dire agonies, wild terrors swarm,
And Death glares grim in many a form."(1)
No one can befittingly describe the cruelty of this beast, which reclines
in one place, and yet rages with iron teeth throughout the world, and not
only tears in pieces the limbs of men, but also breaks their very bones,
and rages over their ashes, that there may be no place for their burial, as
though they who confess God aimed at this, that their tombs should be
visited, and not rather that they themselves may reach the presence of God.
What brutality is it, what fury, what madness, to deny light to the
living, earth to the dead? I say, therefore, that nothing is more wretched
than those men whom necessity has either found or made the ministers of
another's fury, the satellites of an impious command. For that was no
honour, or exaltation of dignity, but the condemnation of a man to torture,
and also to the everlasting punishment of God. But it is impossible to
relate what things they performed individually throughout the world. For
what number of volumes will contain so infinite, so varied kinds of
cruelty? For, having gained power, every one raged according to his own
disposition. Some, through excessive timidity, proceeded to greater lengths
than they were commanded; others thus acted through their own particular
hatred against the righteous; some by a natural ferocity of mind; some
through a desire to please, and that by this service they might prepare the
way to higher offices: some were swift to slaughter, as an individual in
Phrygia, who burnt a whole assembly of people, together with their place of
meeting. But the more cruel he was, so much the more merciful(2) is he
found to be. But that is the worst kind of persecutors whom a false
appearance of clemency flatters; he is the more severe, he the more cruel
torturer, who determines to put no one to death. Therefore it cannot be
told what great and what grievous modes of tortures judges of this kind
devised, that they might arrive at the accomplishment of their purpose. But
they do these things not only on this account, that they may be able to
boast that they have slain none of the innocent,--for I myself have heard
some boasting that their administration has been in this respect without
bloodshed,--but also for the sake of envy, lest either they themselves
should be overcome, or the others should obtain the glory due to their
virtue. And thus, in devising modes of punishment, they think of nothing
else besides victory. For they know that this is a contest and a battle. I
saw in Bithynia the prefect wonderfully elated with joy, as though he had
subdued some nation of barbarians, because one who had resisted for two
years with great spirit appeared at length to yield. They contend,
therefore, that they may conquer and inflict exquisite(3) pains on their
bodies, and avoid nothing else but that the victims may not die under the
torture: as though, in truth, death alone could make them happy, and as
though tortures also in proportion to their severity would not produce
greater glory of virtue. But they with obstinate folly give orders that
diligent care shall be given to the tortured, that their limbs may be
renovated for other tortures, and fresh blood be supplied for punishment.
What can be so pious, so beneficent, so humane? They would not have
bestowed such anxious care on any whom they loved. This is the discipline
of the gods: to these deeds they train their worshippers; these are the
sacred rites which they require. Moreover, most wicked murderers have
invented impious laws against the pious. For both sacrilegious ordinances
and unjust disputations of jurists are read. Domitius, in his seventh book,
concerning the office of the proconsul, has collected wicked rescripts of
princes, that he might show by what punishments they ought to be visited
who confessed themselves to be worshippers of God.
CHAP.XII.--OF TRUE VIRTUE; AND OF THE ESTIMATION OF A GOOD OR BAD CITIZEN.
What would you do to those who give the name of justice to the tortures
inflicted by tyrants of old, who fiercely raged against the innocent; and
though they are teachers of injustice and cruelty, wish to appear just and
prudent, being blind and dull, and ignorant of affairs and of truth? Is
justice so hateful to you, O abandoned minds, that ye regard it as equal
with the greatest crimes? Is innocence so utterly lost in your eyes, that
you do not think it worthy of death only,(4) but it is esteemed as beyond
all crimes to commit no crime, and to have a breast pure from all contagion
of guilt? And since we arc speaking generally with those who worship gods,
let us have your permission to do good with you; for this is our law, this
our business, this our religion. If we appear to you wise, imitate us; if
foolish, despise us, or even laugh at us, if you please; for our folly is
profitable to us. Why do you lacerate, why do you afflict us? We do not
envy your wisdom. We prefer this folly of ours--we embrace this. We believe
that this is expedient for us,--to love you, and to confer all things upon
you, who hate us.
There is in the writings of Cicero(1) a passage not inconsistent with
the truth, in that disputation which is held by Furius against justice: "I
ask," he says, "if there should be two men, and one of them should be an
excellent man, of the highest integrity, the greatest justice, and
remarkable faith, and the other distinguished by crime and audacity; and if
the state should be in such error as to regard that good man as wicked,
vicious, and execrable, but should think the one who is most wicked to be
of the highest integrity and faith; and if, in accordance with this opinion
of all the citizens, that good man should be harassed, dragged away, should
be deprived of his hands, have his eyes dug out, should be condemned, be
bound, be branded, be banished, be in want, and lastly, should most justly
appear to all to be most wretched; but, on the other hand, if that wicked
man should be praised, and honoured, and loved by all,--if all honours, all
commands, all wealth, and all abundance should be bestowed upon him,--in
short, if he should be judged in the estimation of all an excellent man,
and most worthy of all fortune,--who, I pray, will be so mad as to doubt
which of the two he would prefer to be?" Assuredly he put forth this
example as though he divined what evils were about to happen to us, and in
what manner, on account of righteousness; for our people suffer all these
things through the perverseness of those in error. Behold, the state, or
rather the whole world itself, is in such error, that it persecutes,
tortures, condemns, and puts to death good and righteous men, as though
they were wicked and impious. For as to what he says, that no one is so
infatuated as to doubt which of the two he would prefer to be, he indeed,
as the one who was contending against justice, thought this, that the wise
man would prefer to be bad if he had a good reputation, than to be good
with a bad reputation.
But may this senselessness be absent from us, that we should prefer
that which is false to the true? Or does the character of our good man
depend upon the errors of the people, more than upon our own conscience and
the judgment of God? Or shall any prosperity ever allure us, so that we
should not rather choose true goodness, though accompanied with all evil,
than false goodness together with all prosperity? Let kings retain their
kingdoms, the rich their riches, as Plautus says,(2) the wise their wisdom:
let them leave to us our folly, which is evidently proved to be wisdom,
from the very fact that they envy us its possession: for who would envy a
fool, but he who is himself most foolish? But they are not so foolish as to
envy fools; but from the fact of their following us up with such care and
anxiety, they allow that we are not fools. For why should they rage with
such cruelty, unless it is that they fear lest, as justice grows strong
from day to day, they should be deserted together with their decaying(3)
gods? If, therefore, the worshippers of gods are wise, and we are foolish,
why do they fear lest the wise shall be allured by the foolish?
CHAP. XIII.--OF THE INCREASE AND THE PUNISHMENT OF THE
CHRISTIANS.(4)
But since our number is continually increased from the worshippers of
gods, but is never lessened, not even in persecution itself,--since men may
commit sin, and be defiled by sacrifice, but they cannot be turned away
from God, for the truth prevails by its own power,--who is there, I pray,
so foolish and so blind as not to see on which side wisdom is? But they are
blinded by malice and fury, that they cannot see; and they think that those
are foolish who, when they have it in their power to avoid punishments,
nevertheless prefer to be tortured and to be put to death; whereas they
might see from this very circumstance, that it is not folly to which so
many thousands throughout the world agree with one and the same mind. For
if women fall into error through the weakness of their sex (for these
persons sometimes call it a womanish and anile superstition), men doubtless
are wise. If boys, if youths are improvident through their age, the mature
and aged doubtless have a fixed judgment. If one city is unwise, it is
evident that the other innumerable cities cannot be foolish. If one
province or one nation is without prudence, the rest must have
understanding of that which is right. But since the divine law has been
received from the rising even to the setting of the sun, and each sex,
every age, and nation, and country, with one and the same mind obeys God--
since there is everywhere the same patient endurance, the same contempt of
death--they ought to have understood that there is some reason in that
matter, that it is not without a cause that it is defended even to death,
that there is some foundation and solidity, which not only frees that
religion from injuries and molestation, but always increases and makes it
stronger. For in this respect also the malice of those is brought to light,
who think that they have utterly overthrown the religion of God if they
have corrupted men, when it is permitted them to make satisfaction also to
God; and there is no worshipper of God so evil who does not, when the
opportunity is given him, return to appease God, and that, too, with
greater devotedness. For the consciousness of sin and the fear of
punishment make a man more religious, and the faith is always much stronger
which is replaced through repentance. If, therefore, they themselves, when
they think that the gods are angry with them, nevertheless believe that
they are appeased by gifts, and sacrifices, and incense, what reason is
there why they should imagine our God to be so unmerciful and implacable,
that it should appear impossible for him to be a Christian, who by
compulsion and against his will has poured a libation to their gods? Unless
by chance they think that those who are once contaminated are about to
change their mind, so that they may now begin of their own accord to do
that which they have done under the influence of torture. Who would
willingly undertake that duty which began with injury? Who, when he sees
the scars on his own sides, would not the more hate the gods, on account of
whom he bears the traces of lasting punishment, and the marks imprinted
upon his flesh? Thus it comes to pass, that when peace is given from
heaven, those who were estranged (1) from us return, and a fresh crowd(2)
of others are added on account of the wonderful nature(3) of the virtue
displayed. For when the people see that men are lacerated by various kinds
of tortures, and that they retain their patience unsubdued while the
executioners are wearied, they think, as is really the case, that neither
the agreement of so many nor the constancy of the dying is without meaning,
and that patience itself could not surmount such great tortures without the
aid of God. Robbers and men of robust frame are unable to endure
lacerations of this kind: they utter exclamations, and send forth groans;
for they are overcome by pain, because they are destitute of patience
infused(4) into them. But in our case (not to speak of men), boys and
delicate women in silence overpower their torturers, and even the fire is
unable to extort from them a groan. Let the Romans go and boast in their
Mutius or Regulus,--the one of whom gave himself up to be slain by the
enemy, because he was ashamed to live as a captive; the other being taken
by the enemy, when he saw that he could not escape death, laid his hand
upon the burning hearth, that he might make atonement for his crime to the
enemy whom he wished to kill, and by that punishment received the pardon
which he had not deserved. Behold, the weak sex and fragile age endure to
be lacerated in the whole body, and to be burned: not Of necessity, for it
is permitted them to escape if they wished to do so; but of their own will,
because they put their trust in God.(5)
CHAP. XIV.--OF THE FORTITUDE OF THE CHRISTIANS.
But this is true virtue, which the vaunting philosophers also boast of,
not in deed, but with empty words, saying that nothing is so befitting the
gravity and constancy of a wise man as to be able to be driven away from
his sentiment and purpose by no torturers, but that it is worth his
while(6) to suffer torture and death rather than betray a trust or depart
from his duty, or, overcome by fear of death or severity of pain, commit
any injustice. Unless by chance Flaccus appears to them to rave in his
lyrics, when he says,
"Not the rage of the million commanding things evil;
Not the doom frowning near in the brows of the tyrant,
Shakes the upright and resolute man
In his solid completeness of soul."(7)
And nothing can be more true than this, if it is referred to those who
refuse no tortures, no kind of death, that they may not turn aside from
faith and justice; who do not tremble at the commands of tyrants nor the
swords of rulers,(8) so as not to maintain true and solid liberty with
constancy of mind, which wisdom is to be observed in this alone. For who is
so arrogant, who so lifted up, as to forbid me to raise my eyes to heaven?
Who can impose upon me the necessity either of worshipping that which I am
unwilling to worship, or of abstaining from the worship of that which I
wish to worship? What further will now be left to us, if even this, which
must be done of one's own will,(9) shall be extorted from me by the caprice
of another? No one will effect this, if we have any courage to despise
death and pain. But if we possess this constancy, why are we judged foolish
when we do those things which philosophers praise? Seneca, in charging men
with inconsistency, rightly says the highest virtue appears to them to
consist in greatness of spirit; and yet the same persons regard him who
despises death as a madman, which is plainly a mark of the greatest
perverseness. But those followers of vain religions urge this with the same
folly with which they fail to understand the true God; and these the
Erythraean Sibyl calls "deaf and senseless,"(1) since they neither hear nor
perceive divine things, but fear and adore an earthen image moulded by
their own fingers.
CHAP. XV.--OF FOLLY, WISDOM, PIETY, EQUITY, AND JUSTICE.
But the reason on account of which they imagine those who are wise to
be foolish has strong grounds of support (for they are not deceived without
reason). And this must be diligently explained by us, that they may at
length (if it is possible) recognise their errors. Justice by its own
nature has a certain appearance of folly, and I am able to confirm this
both by divine and human testimonies. But perhaps we should not succeed
with them, unless we should teach them from their own authorities that no
one can be just, a matter which is united with true wisdom, unless he also
appears to be foolish. Carneades was a philosopher of the Academic sect;
and one who knows not what power he had in discussion, what eloquence, what
sagacity, will nevertheless understand the character of the man himself
from the praises of Cicero or of Lucilius, in whose writings Neptune,
discoursing on a subject of the greatest difficulty, shows that it cannot
be explained, even if Orcus should restore Carneades himself to life. This
Carneades, when he had been sent by the Athenians as ambassador to Rome,
disputed copiously on the subject of justice, in the hearing of Galba and
Cato, who had been censor, who were at that time the greatest of orators.
But on the next day the same man overthrew his own argument by a
disputation to the contrary effect, and took away the justice which he had
praised on the preceding day, not indeed with the gravity of a philosopher,
whose prudence ought to be firm and his opinion settled, but as it were by
an oratorical kind of exercise of disputing on both sides. And he was
accustomed to do this, that he might be able to refute others who asserted
anything. L. Furius, in Cicero, makes mention of that discussion in which
justice is overthrown.(2) I believe, inasmuch as he was discussing the
subject of the state, he did it that he might introduce the defence and
praise of that without which he thought that a state could not be governed.
But Carneades, that he might refute Aristotle and Plato, the advocates of
justice, in that first disputation collected all the arguments which were
alleged in behalf of justice, that he might be able to overthrow them, as
he did. For it was very easy to shake justice, having no roots, inasmuch as
there was then none on the earth, that its nature or qualities might be
perceived by philosophers. And I could wish that men, so many and of such a
character, had possessed knowledge also, in proportion to their eloquence
and spirit, for completing the defence of this greatest virtue, which has
its origin in religion, its principle in equity! But those who were
ignorant of that first part could not possess the second. But I wish first
to show, summarily and concisely, what it is, that it may be understood
that the philosophers were ignorant of justice, and were unable to defend
that with which they were unacquainted. Although justice embraces all the
virtues together, yet there are two, the chief of all, which cannot be torn
asunder and separated from it--piety and equity. For fidelity, temperance,
uprightness, innocence, integrity, and the other things of this kind,
either naturally or through the training of parents, may exist in those men
who are ignorant of justice, as they have always existed; for the ancient
Romans, who were accustomed to glory in justice, used evidently to glory in
those virtues which (as I have said) may proceed from justice, and be
separated from the very fountain itself. But piety and equity are, as it
were, its veins: for in these two fountains the whole of justice is
contained; but its source and origin is in the first, all its force and
method in the second. But piety is nothing else but the conception(3) of
God, as Trismegistus most truly defined it, as we have said in another
place. If, therefore, it is piety to know God, and the sum of this
knowledge is that you worship Him, it is plain that he is ignorant of
justice who does not possess the knowledge of God. For how can he know
justice itself, who is ignorant of the source from which it arises? Plato,
indeed, spoke many things respecting the one God, by whom he said that the
world was framed; but he spoke nothing respecting religion: for he had
dreamed of God, but had not known Him. But if either he himself or any
other person had wished to complete the defence of justice, he ought first
of all to have overthrown the religions of the gods, because they are
opposed to piety. And because Socrates indeed tried to do this, he was
thrown into prison; that even then it might be seen what was about to
happen to those men who had begun to defend true justice, and to serve the
only God.
The other part of justice, therefore, is equity; and it is plain that I
am not speaking of the equity of judging well, though this also is
praiseworthy in a just man, but of making himself equal to others, which
Cicero calls equability.(4) For God, who produces and gives breath to men,
willed that all should be equal, that is, equally matched.(1) He has
imposed on all the same condition of living; He has produced all to wisdom;
He has promised immortality to all; no one is cut off from His heavenly
benefits. For as He distributes to all alike His one light, sends forth His
fountains to all, supplies food, and gives the most pleasant rest of sleep;
so He bestows on all equity and virtue. In His sight no one is a slave, no
one a master; for if all have the same Father, by an equal right we are all
children. No one is poor in the sight of God, but he who is without
justice; no one is rich, but he who is full of virtues; no one, in short,
is excellent, but he who has been good and innocent; no one is most
renowned, but he who has abundantly performed works of mercy; no one is
most perfect, but he who has filled all the steps of virtue. Therefore
neither the Romans nor the Greeks could possess justice, because they had
men differing from one another by many degrees, from the poor to the rich,
from the humble to the powerful; in short, from private persons to the
highest authorities of kings. For where all are not equally matched, there
is not equity; and inequality of itself excludes justice, the whole force
of which consists in this, that it makes those equal who have by an equal
lot arrived at the condition of this life.
CHAP. XVI.--OF THE DUTIES OF THE JUST MAN, AND THE EQUITY OF CHRISTIANS.
Therefore, since those two fountains of justice are changed, all virtue
and all truth are taken away, and justice itself returns to heaven. And on
this account the true good was not discovered by philosophers, because they
were ignorant both of its origin and effects: which has been revealed to no
others but to our people.(2) Some one will say, Are there not among you
some poor, and others rich; some servants, and others masters? Is there not
some difference between individuals? There is none; nor is there any other
cause why we mutually bestow upon each other the name of brethren, except
that we believe ourselves to be equal. For since we measure all human
things not by the body, but by the spirit, although the condition of bodies
is different, yet we have no servants, but we both regard and speak of them
as brothers in spirit, in religion as fellow-servants. Riches also do not
render men illustrious, except that(3) they are able to make them more
conspicuous by good works. For men are rich, not because they possess
riches, but because they employ them on works of justice; and they who seem
to be poor, on this account are rich, because they are not(4) in want, and
desire nothing.
Though, therefore, in lowliness of mind we are on an equality, the free
with slaves, and the rich with the poor, nevertheless in the sight of God
we are distinguished by virtue. And every one is more elevated in
proportion to his greater justice. For if it is justice for a man to put
himself on a level even with those of lower rank, although he excels in
this very thing, that he made himself equal to his inferiors; yet if he
has conducted himself not only as an equal, but even as an inferior, he
will plainly obtain a much higher rank of dignity in the judgment of God(5)
For assuredly, since all things in this temporal life are frail and liable
to decay, men both prefer themselves to others, and contend about dignity;
than which nothing is more foul, nothing mere arrogant, nothing more
removed from the conduct of a wise man: for these earthly things are
altogether opposed to heavenly things. For as the wisdom of men is the
greatest foolishness with God, and foolishness is (as I have shown) the
greatest wisdom; so he is low and abject in the sight of God who shall have
been conspicuous and elevated on earth. For, not to mention that these
present earthly goods to which great honour is paid are contrary to virtue,
and enervate the vigour of the mind, what nobility, I pray, can be so firm,
what resources, what power, since God is able to make kings themselves even
lower than the lowest? And therefore God has consulted our interest in
placing this in particular among the divine precepts: "He that exalteth
himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."(6)
And the wholesomeness of this precept teaches that he who shall simply
place himself on a level with other men, and carry himself with humility,
is esteemed excellent and illustrious in the sight of God. For the
sentiment is not false which is brought forward in Euripides to this
effect:--"The things which are here considered evil are esteemed good in
heaven."
CHAP. XVII.--OF THE EQUITY, WISDOM, AND FOOLISHNESS OF CHRISTIANS.
I have explained the reason why philosophers were unable either to find
or to defend justice. Now I return to that which I had purposed. Carneades,
therefore, since the arguments of the philosophers were weak, undertook the
bold task of refuting them, because he understood that they were capable of
refutation. The substance of his disputation was this: "That men(7) enacted
laws for themselves, with a view to their own advantage, differing indeed
according to their characters, and in the case of the same persons often
changed according to the times: but that there was no natural law: that
all, both men and other animals, were borne by the guidance of nature to
their own advantage; therefore that there was no justice, or if any did
exist, it was the greatest folly, because it injured itself by promoting
the interests of others." And he brought forward these arguments: "That all
nations which flourished with dominion, even the Romans themselves, who
were masters of the whole world, if they wish to be just, that is, to
restore the possessions of others, must return to cottages, and lie down in
want and miseries." Then, leaving general topics, he came to particulars.
"If a good man," he says, "has a runaway slave, or an unhealthy and
infected house, and he alone knows these faults, and on this account offers
it for sale, will he give out that the slave is a runaway, and the house
which he offers for sale is infected, or will he conceal it from the
purchaser? If he shall give it out, he is good indeed, because he will not
deceive; but still he will be judged foolish, because he will either sell
at a low price or not sell at all. If he shall conceal it, he will be wise
indeed, because he will consult his own interest; but he will be also
wicked, because he will deceive. Again, if he should find any one who
supposes that he is selling copper ore when it is gold, or lead when it is
silver, will he be silent, that he may buy it at a small price; or will he
give information of it, so that he may buy it at a great price? It
evidently appears foolish to prefer to buy it at a great price." From which
he wished it to be understood, both that he who is just and good is
foolish, and that he who is wise is wicked; and yet that it may possibly
happen without ruin, for men to be contented with poverty. Therefore he
passed to greater things, in which no one could be just without danger of
his life. For he said: "Certainly it is justice not to put a man to death,
not to take the property of another. What, then, will the just man do, if
he shall happen to have suffered shipwreck, and some one weaker than
himself shall have seized a plank? Will he not thrust him from the plank,
that he himself may get upon it, and supported by it may escape, especially
since there is no witness in the middle of the sea? If he is wise, he will
do so; for he must himself perish unless he shall thus act. But if he
choose rather to die than to inflict violence upon another, in this case he
is just, but foolish, in not sparing his own life while he spares the life
of another. Thus also, if the army of his own people shall have been
routed, and the enemy have begun to press upon them, and that just man
shall have met with a wounded man on horseback, will he spare him so as to
be slain himself, or will he throw him from his horse, that he himself may
escape from the enemy? If he shall do this, he will be wise, but also
wicked; if he shall not do it, he will be just, but also of necessity
foolish." When, therefore, he had thus divided justice into two parts,
saying that the one was civil, the other natural, he subverted both:
because the civil part is wisdom, but not justice; but the natural part is
justice, but not wisdom. These arguments are altogether subtle and
acute,(1) and such as Marcus Tullius was unable to refute. For when he
represents Laelius as replying to Furius, and speaking in behalf of
justice, he passed them by as a pitfall without refuting them; so that the
same Laelius appears not to have defended natural justice, which bad fallen
under the charge of folly, but that civil justice which Furius had admitted
to be wisdom, but unjust.(2)
CHAP. XVIII.--OF JUSTICE, WISDOM, AND FOLLY,
With reference to our present discussion, I have shown how justice
bears the resemblance of folly, that it may appear that those are not
deceived without reason who think that men of our religion are foolish in
appearing to do such things as he proposed. Now I perceive that a greater
undertaking is required from me, to show why God wished to enclose justice
under the appearance of folly, and to remove it from the eyes of men, when
I shall have first replied to Furius, since Laelius has not sufficiently
replied to him; who, although he was a wise man, as he was called, yet
could not be the advocate of true justice, because he did not possess the
source and fountain of justice. But this defence is easier for us, to whom
by the bounty of Heaven this justice is familiar and well known, and who
know it not in name, but in reality. For Plato and Aristotle desired with
an honest will to defend justice, and would have effected something, if
their good endeavours, their eloquence, and vigour of intellect had been
aided also by a knowledge of divine things. Thus their work, being vain and
useless, was neglected: nor were they able to persuade any of men to live
according to their precept, because that system had no foundation from
heaven. But our work must be more certain, since we are taught of God. For
they represented justice in words, and pictured it when it was not in
sight; nor were they able to confirm their assertions by present examples.
For the hearers might have answered that it was impossible to live as they
prescribed in their disputation; so that none have as yet existed who
followed that course of life. But we show the truth of our statements not
only by words, but also by examples derived from the truth. Therefore
Carneades understood what is the nature of justice, except that he did not
sufficiently perceive that it was not folly; although I seem to myself to
understand with what intention he did this. For he did not really think
that he who is just is foolish; but when he knew that he was not so, but
did not comprehend the cause why he appeared so, he wished to show that the
truth lay hidden, that he might maintain the dogma of his own sect,(1) the
chief opinion of which is, "that nothing can be fully comprehended."
Let us see, therefore, whether justice has any agreement with folly.
The just man, he says, if he does not take away from the wounded man: his
horse, and from the shipwrecked man his plank, in order that he may
preserve his own life, is foolish. First of all, I deny that it can in any
way happen that a man who is truly just should be in circumstances of this
kind; for the just man is neither at enmity with any human being, nor
desires anything at all which is the property of another. For why should he
take a voyage, or what should he seek from another land, when his own is
sufficient for him? Or why should he carry on war, and mix himself with the
passions of others, when his mind is engaged in perpetual peace with men?
Doubtless he will be delighted with foreign merchandise or with human
blood, who does not know how to seek gain, who is satisfied with his mode
of living, and considers it unlawful not only himself to commit slaughter,
but to be present with those who do it, and to behold it! But I omit these
things, since it is possible that a man may be compelled even against his
will to undergo these things. Do you then, O Furius--or rather O Carneades,
for all this speech is his--think that justice is so useless, so
superfluous, and so despised by God, that it has no power and no influence
in itself which may avail for its own preservation? But it is evident that
they who are ignorant of the mystery(2) of man, and who therefore refer all
things to this present life, cannot know how great is the force of justice.
For when they discuss the subject of virtue, although they understand that
it is very full of labours and miseries, nevertheless they say that it is
to be sought for its own sake; for they by no means see its rewards, which
are eternal and immortal. Thus, by referring all things to the present
life, they altogether reduce virtue to folly, since it undergoes such great
labours of this life in vain and to no purpose. But more on this subject at
another opportunity.
In the meanwhile let us speak of justice, as we began, the power of
which is so great, that when it has raised its eyes to heaven, it deserves
all things from God. Flaccus therefore rightly said, that the power of
innocence is so great, that wherever it journeys, it needs neither arms nor
strength for its protection:--
"He whose life hath no flaw, pure from guile, need not borrow
Or the bow or the darts of the Moor, O my Fuscus!
He relies for defence on no quiver that teems with
Poison-steept arrows.
Though his path be along sultry African Syrtes,
Or Caucasian ravines, where no guest finds a shelter,
Or the banks which Hydaspes, the stream weird(3) with fable,
Licks languid-flowing."(4)
It is impossible, therefore, that amidst the dangers of tempests and of
wars the just man should be unprotected by the guardianship of Heaven; and
that even if he should be at sea in company with parricides and guilty men,
the wicked also should not be spared, that this one just and innocent soul
may be freed from danger, or at any rate may be alone preserved while the
rest perish. But let us grant that the case which the philosopher proposes
is possible: what, then, will the just man do, if he shall have met with a
wounded man on a horse, or a shipwrecked man on a plank? I am not unwilling
to confess he will rather die than put another to death. Nor will justice,
which is the chief good of man, on this account receive the name of folly.
For what ought to be better and dearer to man than innocence? And this must
be the more perfect, the more you bring it to extremity, and choose to die
rather than to detract from the character of innocence. It is folly, he
says, to spare the life of another in a case which involves the destruction
of one's own life. Then do you think it foolish to perish even for
friendship?
Why, then, are those Pythagorean friends praised by you, of whom the
one gave himself to the tyrant as a surety for the life of the other, and
the other at the appointed time, when his surety was now being led to
execution, presented himself, and rescued him by his own interposition?
Whose virtue would not be held in such glory, when one of them was willing
to die for his friend, the other even for his word(5) which had been
pledged, if they were regarded as fools. In fine, on account of this very
virtue the tyrant rewarded them by preserving both, and thus the
disposition of a most cruel man was changed. Moreover, it is even said that
he entreated(6) them to admit him as a third party to their friendship,
from which it is plain that he regarded them not as fools, but as good and
wise men. Therefore I do not see why, since it is reckoned the highest
glory to die for friendship and for one's word, it is not glorious to a man
to die even for his innocence. They are therefore most foolish who impute
it as a crime to us that we are willing to die for God, when they
themselves extol to the heavens with the highest praises him who was
willing to die for a man. In short, to conclude this disputation, reason
itself teaches that it is impossible for a man to be at once just and
foolish, wise and unjust. For he who is foolish is unacquainted with that
which is just and good, and therefore always errs. For he is as it were,
led captive by his vices; nor can he in any way resist them, because he is
destitute of the virtue of which he is ignorant. But the just man abstains
from all fault, because he cannot do otherwise, although he has the
knowledge of right and wrong.
But who is able to distinguish right from wrong except the wise man?
Thus it comes to pass, that he can never be just who is foolish, nor wise
who is unjust. And if this is most true, it is plain that he who has not
taken away a plank from a shipwrecked man, or a horse from one who is
wounded, is not foolish; because it is a sin to do these things, and the
wise man abstains from sin. Nevertheless I myself also confess that it has
this appearance, through the error of men, who are ignorant of the peculiar
character(1) of everything. And thus the whole of this inquiry is refuted
not so much by arguments as by definition. Therefore folly is the erring in
deeds and words, through ignorance of what is right and good. Therefore he
is not a fool who does not even spare himself to prevent injury to another,
which is an evil. And this, indeed, reason and the truth itself dictate.(2)
For we see that in all animals, because they are destitute of wisdom,
nature is the provider of supplies for itself. Therefore they injure others
that they may profit themselves, for they do not understand that the(3)
committing an injury is evil. But man, who has the knowledge of good and
evil, abstains from committing an injury even to his own damage, which an
animal without reason is unable to do; and on this account innocence is
reckoned among the chief virtues of man. Now by these things it appears
that he is the wisest man who prefers to perish rather than to commit an
injury, that he may preserve that sense of duty(4) by which he is
distinguished from the dumb creation. For he who does not point out the
error of one who is offering the gold for sale, in order that he may buy it
for a small sum, or he who does not avow that he is offering for sale a
runaway slave or an infected house, having an eye to his own gain or
advantage, is not a wise man, as Carneades wished it to appear, but crafty
and cunning. Now craftiness and cunning exist in the dumb animals also:
either when they lie in wait for others, and take them by deceit, that
they may devour them; or when they avoid the snares of others in various
ways. But wisdom falls to man alone. For wisdom is understanding either
with the purpose of doing that which is good and right, or for the
abstaining from improper words and deeds. Now a wise man never gives
himself to the pursuit of gain, because he despises these earthly
advantages: nor does he allow any one to be deceived, because it is the
duty of a good man to correct the errors of men, and to bring them back to
the right way; since the nature of man is social and beneficent, in which
respect alone he bears a relation to God.
CHAP. XIX.--OF VIRTUE AND THE TORTURES OF CHRISTIANS, AND OF THE RIGHT OF A
FATHER AND MASTER.
But undoubtedly this is the cause(5) why he appears to be foolish who
prefers to be in want. or to die rather than to inflict injury or take away
the property of another,--namely, because they think that man is destroyed
by death. And from this persuasion all the errors both of the common people
and also of the philosophers arise. For if we have no existence after
death, assuredly it is the part of the most foolish man not to promote the
interests of the present life, that it may be long-continued, and may
abound with all advantages. But he who shall act thus must of necessity
depart from the rule of justice. But if there remains to man a longer and a
better life--and this we learn both from the !arguments of great
philosophers, and from the answers of seers, and the divine words of
prophets--it is the part of the wise man to despise this present life with
its advantages, since its entire loss is compensated by immortality. The
same defender of justice, Laelius, says in Cicero:(6) "Virtue altogether
wishes for honour; nor is there any other reward of virtue." There is
indeed another, and that most worthy of virtue, which you, O Laelius, could
never have supposed; for you had no knowledge of the sacred writings. And
this reward it easily receives, and does not harshly demand. You are
greatly mistaken, if you think that a reward can be paid to virtue by man,
since you yourself most truly said in another place: "What riches will you
offer to this man? what commands? what kingdoms? He who regards these
things as human, judges his own advantages to be divine." Who, therefore,
can think you a wise man, O Laelius, when you contradict yourself, and
after a short interval take away from virtue that which you have given to
her? But it is manifest that ignorance of the truth makes your opinion
uncertain and wavering.
In the next place, what do you add? "But if all the ungrateful, or the
many who are envious, or powerful enemies, deprive virtue of its rewards."
Oh how frail, how worthless, have you represented virtue to be, if it can
be deprived of its reward !For if it judges its goods to be divine, as you
said, how can there be any so ungrateful, so envious, so powerful, as to be
able to deprive virtue of those goods which were conferred upon it by the
gods? "Assuredly it delights itself," he says, "by many comforts, and
especially supports itself by its own beauty." By what comforts? by what
beauty? since that beauty is often charged upon it as a fault, and turned
into a punishment. For what if, as Furius said,(1) a man should be dragged
away, harassed, banished, should be in want, be deprived of his hands, have
his eyes put out, be condemned, put into chains, be burned, be miserably
tortured also? will virtue lose its reward, or rather, will it perish
itself? By no means. But it will both receive its reward from God the
Judge, and it will live, and always flourish. And if you take away these
things, nothing in the life of man can appear to be so useless, so foolish,
as virtue, the natural goodness and honour of which may teach us that the
soul is not mortal, and that a divine reward is appointed for it by God.
But on this account God willed that virtue itself should be concealed under
the character of folly, that the mystery of truth and of His religion might
be secret; that He might show the vanity and error of these superstitions,
and of that earthly wisdom which raises itself too highly, and exhibits
great self-complacency, that its difficulty being at length set forth, that
most narrow path might lead to the lofty reward of immortality. I have
shown, as I think, why our people are esteemed foolish by the foolish. For
to choose to be tortured and slain, rather than to take incense in three
fingers, and throw it upon the hearth,(2) appears as foolish as, in a case
where life is endangered, to be more careful of the life of another than of
one's own. For they do not know how great an act of impiety it is to adore
any other object than God, who made heaven and earth, who fashioned the
human race, breathed into them the breath of life, and gave them light. But
if he is accounted the most worthless of slaves who runs away and deserts
his master, and if he is judged most deserving of stripes and chains, and a
prison, and the cross, and of all evil; and if a son, in the same manner,
is thought abandoned and impious who deserts his father, that he may not
pay him obedience, and on this account is considered deserving of being
disinherited, and of having his name removed for ever from his family,--how
much more so does he who forsakes God, in whom the two names entitled to
equal reverence, of Lord and Father, alike meet? For what benefit does he
who buys a slave bestow upon him, beyond the nourishment with which he
supplies him for his own advantage? And he who begets a son has it not in
his power to effect that he shall be conceived, or born, or live; from
which it is evident that he is not the father, but only the instrument(3)
of generation. Of what punishments, therefore, is he deserving, who
forsakes Him who is both the true Master and Father, but those which God
Himself has appointed? who has prepared everlasting fire for the wicked
spirits; and this He Himself threatens by His prophets to the impious and
the rebellious.(4)
CHAP. XX.--OF THE VANITY AND CRIMES IMPIOUS SUPERSTITIONS, AND OF THE
TORTURES OF THE CHRISTIANS.
Therefore, let those who destroy their own souls and the souls of
others learn what an inexpiable crime they commit; in the first place,
because they cause their own death by serving most abandoned demons, whom
God has condemned to everlasting punishments; in the next place, because
they do not permit God to be worshipped by others, but endeavour to turn
men aside to deadly rites, and strive with the greatest diligence that no
life may be without injury on earth, which looks to heaven with its
condition secured. What else shall I call them but miserable men, who obey
the instigations of their own plunderers,(5) whom they think to be gods? of
whom they neither know the condition, nor origin, nor names, nor nature;
but, clinging to the persuasion of the people, they willingly err, and
favour their own folly. And if you should ask them the grounds of their
persuasion, they can assign none, but have recourse to the judgment of
their ancestors, saying that they were wise, that they approved them, that
they knew what was best; and thus they deprive themselves of all power of
perception: they bid adieu to reason, while they place confidence in the
errors of others. Thus, involved in ignorance of all things, they neither
know themselves nor their gods. And would to heaven that they had been
willing to err by themselves, and to be unwise by themselves !But they
hurry away others also to be companions of their evil, as though they were
about to derive comfort from the destruction of many. But this very
ignorance causes them to be so cruel in persecuting the wise; and they
pretend that they are promoting their welfare, that they wish to recall
them to a good mind.
Do they then strive to effect this by conversation, or by giving some
reason? By no means; but they endeavour to effect it by force and tortures.
O wonderful and blind infatuation !It is thought that there is a bad mind
in those who endeavour to preserve their faith, but a good one in
executioners. Is there, then, a bad mind in those who, against every law of
humanity, against every principle of justice, are tortured, or rather, in
those who inflict on the bodies of the innocent such things, as neither the
most cruel robbers, nor the most enraged enemies, nor the most savage
barbarians have ever practised? Do they deceive themselves to such an
extent, that they mutually transfer and change the names of good and evil?
Why, therefore, do they not call day night--the sun darkness? Moreover, it
is the same impudence to give to the good the name of evil, to the wise the
name of foolish, to the just the name of impious. Besides this, if they
have any confidence in philosophy or in eloquence, let them arm themselves,
and refute these arguments of ours if they are able; let them meet us hand
to hand, and examine every point. It is befitting that they should
undertake the defence of their gods, lest, if our affairs should increase
(as they do increase daily), theirs should be deserted, together with their
shrines and their vain mockeries;(1) and since they can effect nothing by
violence (for the religion of God is increased the more it is oppressed),
let them rather act by the use of reason and exhortations.
Let their priests come forth into the midst, whether the inferior ones
or the greatest; their flamens, augurs, and also sacrificing kings, and the
priests and ministers of their superstitions. Let them call us together to
an assembly; let them exhort us to undertake the worship of their gods;
let them persuade us that there are many g beings by whose deity and
providence all things are governed; let them show how the origins and
beginnings of their sacred rites and gods were handed down to mortals; let
them explain what is their source and principle; let them set forth what
reward there is in their worship, and what punishment awaits neglect; why
they wish to be worshipped by men; what the piety of men contributes to
them, if they are blessed: and let them confirm all these things not by
their own assertion (for the authority of a mortal man is of no weight),
but by some divine testimonies, as we do. There is no occasion for violence
and injury, for religion cannot be imposed by force; the matter must be
carried on by words rather than by blows, that the will may be affected.
Let them unsheath the weapon of their intellect; if their system is true,
let it be asserted. We are prepared to hear, if they teach; while they are
silent, we certainly pay no credit to them, as we do not yield to them even
in their rage. Let them imitate us in setting forth the system of the whole
matter: for we do not entice, as they say; but we teach, we prove, we show.
And thus no one is detained by us against his will, for he is unserviceable
to God who is destitute of faith and devotedness; and yet no one departs
from us, since the truth itself detains him. Let them teach in this manner,
if they have any confidence in the truth; let them speak, let them give
utterance; let them venture, I say, to discuss with us something of this
nature; and then assuredly their error and folly will be ridiculed by the
old women, whom they despise, and by our boys. For, since they are
especially clever, they know from books the race of the gods, and their
exploits, and commands, and deaths, and tombs; they may also know that the
rites themselves, in which they have been initiated, had their origin
either in human actions, or in casualties, or in deaths.(2) It is the part
of incredible madness to imagine that they are gods, whom they cannot deny
to have been mortal; or if they should be So shameless as to deny it, their
own writings, and those of their own people, will refute them; in short,
the very beginnings of the sacred rites will convict them.(3) They may
know, therefore, even from this very thing, how great a difference there is
between truth and falsehood; for they themselves with all their eloquence
are unable to persuade, whereas the unskilled and the uneducated are able,
because the matter itself and the truth speaks.
Why then do they rage, so that while they wish to lessen their folly,
they increase it? Torture(4) and piety are widely different; nor is it
possible for truth to be united with violence, or justice with cruelty. But
with good reason they do not venture to teach anything concerning divine
things, lest they should both be derided by our people and be deserted by
their own. For the common people for the most part, if they ascertain that
these mysteries were instituted in memory of the dead, will condemn them,
and seek for some truer object of worship.
"Hence rites of mystic awe "(1)
were instituted by crafty men, that the people may not know what they
worship. But since we are acquainted with their systems, why do they either
not believe us who are acquainted with both, or envy us because we have
preferred truth to falsehood? But, they say, the public rites of
religion(2) must be defended. Oh with what an honourable inclination the
wretched men go astray !For they are aware that there is nothing among men
more excellent than religion, and that this ought to be defended with the
whole of our power; but as they are deceived in the matter of religion
itself, so also are they in the manner of its defence. For religion is to
be defended, not by putting to death, but by dying; not by cruelty, but by
patient endurance; not by guilt, but by good faith: for the former; belong
to evils, but the latter to goods; and it is necessary for that which is
good to have place in religion, and not that which is evil. For if you wish
to defend religion by bloodshed, and by tortures, and by guilt, it will no
longer be defended, but will be polluted and profaned. For nothing is so
much a matter of free-will as religion; in which, if the mind of the
worshipper is disinclined to it, religion is at once taken away, and ceases
to exist. The right method therefore is, that you defend religion by
patient endurance or by death; in which the preservation of the faith is
both pleasing to God Himself, and adds authority to religion. For if he who
in this earthly warfare preserves his faith to his king in some illustrious
action, if he shall continue to live, because more beloved and acceptable,
and if he shall fall, obtains the highest glory, because he has undergone
death for his leader; how much more is faith to be kept towards God, the
Ruler of all, who is able to pay the reward of virtue, not only to the
living, but also to the dead! Therefore the worship of God, since it
belongs to heavenly warfare, requires the greatest devotedness and
fidelity. For how will God either love the worshipper, if He Himself is not
loved by him, or grant to the petitioner whatever he shall ask, when he
draws nigh to offer his prayer without sincerity or reverence? But these
men, when they come to offer sacrifice, present to their gods nothing from
within, nothing of their own--no uprightness of mind, no reverence or fear.
Therefore, when the worthless sacrifices i are completed, they leave their
religion altogether i in the temple, and with the temple, as they had found
it; and neither bring with them anything of it, nor take anything back.
Hence it is that religious observances of this kind are neither able to
make men good, nor to be firm and unchangeable. And thus men are easily led
away from them, because nothing is learned in them relating to the life,
nothing relating to wisdom, nothing to faith.(3) For what is the religion
of those gods? what is its power? what its discipline? what its origin?
what its principle? what its foundation? what its substance? what is its
tendency? or what does it promise, so that it may be faithfully preserved
and boldly defended by man? I see nothing else in it than a rite pertaining
to the fingers only.(4) But our religion is on this account firm, and
solid, and unchangeable, because it teaches justice, because it is always
with us, because it has its existence altogether in the soul of the
worshipper, because it has the mind itself for a sacrifice. In that
religion nothing else is required but the blood of animals, and the smoke
of incense, and the senseless pouring out of libations; but in this of
ours, a good mind, a pure breast, an innocent life: those rites are
frequented by unchaste adulteresses without any discrimination, by impudent
procuresses, by filthy harlots; they are frequented by gladiators, robbers,
thieves, and sorcerers, who pray for nothing else but that they may commit
crimes with impunity. For what can the robber ask when he sacrifices, or
the gladiator, but that they may slay? what the poisoner, but that he may
escape notice? what the harlot, but that she may sin to the uttermost? what
the adulteress, but either the death of her husband, or that her unchastity
may be concealed? what the procuress, but that she may deprive many of
their property? what the thief, but that he may commit more peculations?
But in our religion there is no place even for a slight and ordinary
offence; and if any one shall come to a sacrifice without a sound
conscience, he hears what threats God denounces against him: that God, I
say, who sees the secret places of the heart, who is alway hostile to sins,
who requires justice, who demands fidelity. What place is there here for an
evil mind or for an evil prayer? But those unhappy men neither understand
from their own crimes how evil it is to worship, since, defiled by all
crimes, they come to offer prayer; and they imagine that they offer a pious
sacrifice if they wash their skin; as though any streams could wash away,
or any seas purify, the lusts which are shut up within their breast. How
much better it is rather to cleanse the mind, which is defiled by evil
desires, and to drive away all vices by the one layer of virtue and faith!
For he who shall do this, although he bears a body which is defiled and
sordid, is pure enough.
CHAP. XXI.--OF THE WORSHIP OF OTHER GODS AND THE TRUE GOD, AND OF THE
ANIMALS WHICH THE EGYPTIANS WORSHIPPED.
But they, because they know not the object or the mode of worship,
blindly and unconsciously fall into the contrary practice. Thus they adore
their enemies, they appease with victims their robbers and murderers, and
they place their own souls to be burned with the very incense on detestable
altars. The wretched men are also angry, because others do not perish in
like manner, with incredible blindness of minds. For what can they see who
do not see the sun? As though, if they were gods, they would need the
assistance of men against their despisers. Why, therefore, are they angry
with us, if they have no power to effect anything? Unless it be that they
destroy their gods, whose power they distrust, they are more irreligious
than those who do not worship them at all. Cicero, in his Laws,(1)
enjoining men to approach with holiness to the sacrifices, says, "Let them
put on piety, let them lay aside riches; if any one shall act otherwise,
God Himself will be the avenger." This is well spoken; for it is not right
to despair about God, whom you worship on this account, because you think
Him powerful. For how can He avenge the wrongs of His worshippers, if He is
unable to avenge His own? I wish therefore to ask them to whom especially
they think that they are doing a service in compelling them to sacrifice
against their will, Is it to those whom they compel? But that is not a
kindness which is done to one who refuses it. But we must consult their
interests, even against their will, since they know not what is good. Why,
then, do they so cruelly harass, torture, and weaken them, if they wish for
their safety? or whence is piety so impious, that they either destroy in
this wretched manner, or render useless, those whose welfare they wish to
promote? Or do they do service to the gods? But that is not a sacrifice
which is extorted from a person against his will. For unless it is offered
spontaneously, and from the soul, it is a curse; when men sacrifice,
compelled by proscription, by injuries, by prison, by tortures. If they are
gods who are worshipped in this manner, if for this reason only, they ought
not to be worshipped, because they wish to be worshipped in this manner:
they are doubtless worthy of the detestation of men, since libations are
made to them with tears, with groaning, and with blood flowing from all the
limbs.
But we, on the contrary, do not require that any one should be
compelled, whether he is willing or unwilling, to worship our God, who is
the God of all men; nor are we angry if any one does not worship Him. For
we trust in the majesty of Him who has power to avenge contempt shown
towards Himself, as also He has power to avenge the calamities and injuries
inflicted on His servants. And therefore, when we suffer such impious
things, we do not resist even in word; but we remit vengeance to God, not
as they act who would have it appear that they are defenders of their gods,
and rage without restraint against those who do not worship them. From
which it may be understood how it is not good to worship their gods, since
men ought to have been led to that which is good by good, and not by evil;
but because this is evil, even its office is destitute of good. But they
who destroy religious systems must be punished. Have we destroyed them in a
worse manner than the nation of the Egyptians, who worship the most
disgraceful figures of beasts and cattle, and adore as gods some things
which it is even shameful to speak of? Have we done worse than those same
who, when they say that they worship the gods, yet publicly and shamefully
deride them?--for they even allow pantomimic(2) representations of them to
be acted with laughter and pleasure. What kind of a religion is this, or
how great must that majesty be considered, which is adored in temples and
mocked in theatres? And they who have done these things do not suffer the
vengeance of the injured deity, but even go away honoured and praised. Do
we destroy them in a worse manner than certain philosophers, who say that
there are no gods at all, but that all things are spontaneously produced,
and that all things which are done happen by chance? Do we destroy them in
a worse manner than the Epicureans, who admit the existence of gods, but
deny that they regard anything, and say that they are neither angry nor are
influenced by favour? By which words they plainly persuade men that they
are not to be worshipped at all, inasmuch as they neither regard their
worshippers, nor are angry with those who do not worship them. Moreover,
when they argue against fears, they endeavour to effect nothing else than
that no one should fear the gods. And yet these things are willingly heard
by men, and discussed with impunity.
CHAP. XXII.--OF THE RAGE OF THE DEMONS AGAINST CHRISTIANS, AND THE ERROR OF
UNBELIEVERS.
They do not therefore rage against us on this account, because their
gods are not worshipped by us, but because the truth is on our side, which
(as it has been said most truly) produces hatred. What, then, shall we
think, but that they are ignorant of what they suffer? For they act(1) with
a blind and unreasonable fury, which we see, but of which they are
ignorant. For it is not the men themselves who persecute, for they have no
cause of anger against the innocent; but those contaminated and abandoned
spirits by whom the truth is both known and hated insinuate themselves into
their minds, and goad them in their ignorance to fury. For these, as long
as there is peace among the people of God, flee from the righteous, and
fear them; and when they seize upon the bodies of men, and harass their
souls, they are adjured by them, and at the name of the true God are put to
flight. For when they hear this name they tremble, cry out, and assert that
they are branded and beaten; and being asked who they are, whence they are
come, and how they have insinuated themselves into a man, confess it. Thus,
being tortured and excruciated by the power of the divine name, they come
out of the man.(2) On account of these blows and threats, they always hate
holy and just men; and because they are unable of themselves to injure
them, they pursue with public hatred those whom they perceive to be
grievous to them, and they exercise cruelty, with all the violence which
they can employ, that they may either weaken their faith by pain, or, if
they are unable to effect that, may take them away altogether from the
earth, that there may be none to restrain their wickedness. It does not
escape my notice what reply can be made on the other side. Why, then, does
that God of surpassing power, that mighty One, whom you confess to preside
over all things, and to be Lord of all, permit these things to be done, and
neither avenge nor defend His worshippers? Why, in short, are they who do
not worship Him rich, and powerful, and happy? and why do they enjoy
honours and kingly state, and have these very persons(3) subject to their
power and sway?
We must also give a reason for this, that no error may remain. For this
is especially the cause why it is thought that religion has not the power
of God, because men are influenced by the appearance of earthly and present
goods, which in no way have reference to the care of the mind; and because
they see that the righteous are without these goods, and that the
unrighteous abound in them, they both judge that the worship of God is
worthless, in which they do not see these things contained, and they
imagine that the rites of other gods are true, since their worshippers
enjoy riches and honours and kingdoms. But they who are of this opinion do
not attentively consider the power and method of man, which consists
altogether in the mind, and not in the body. For they see nothing more than
is seen, namely the body; and because this is to be seen and handled,(4)
it is weak, frail, and mortal; and to this belong all those goods which
are their desire and admiration, wealth, honours, and governments, since
they bring pleasures to the body, and therefore are as liable to decay as
the body itself. But the soul, in which alone man consists since it is not
exposed to the sight of the eyes, and its goods cannot be seen, for they
are placed in virtue only, must t therefore be as firm, and constant, and
lasting as virtue itself, in which the good of the soul consists.
CHAP. XXIII.--OF THE JUSTICE AND PATIENCE OF THE CHRISTIANS.
It would be a lengthened task to draw forth all the appearances of
virtue, to show respecting each how necessary it is for a wise and just man
to be far removed from those goods, the enjoyment of which by the unjust
causes the worship of their gods to be regarded as true and efficacious. As
our present inquiry is concerned, it will be sufficient to prove our point
from the case of a single virtue. For instance, patience is a great and
leading virtue, which the public voices of the people and philosophers and
orators alike extol with the highest praises. But if it cannot be denied
that this is a virtue of the highest kind, it is necessary that the just
and wise man should be in the power of the unjust, for obtaining patience;
for patience is the bearing with equanimity of the evils which are either
inflicted or happen to fall upon us. Therefore the just and wise man,
because he exercises virtue, has patience in himself; but he will be
altogether free from this if he shall suffer no adversity. On the other
hand, the man who lives in prosperity is impatient, and is without the
greatest virtue. I call him impatient, because he suffers nothing. He is
also unable to preserve innocency, which virtue is peculiar to the just and
wise man. But he often acts unjustly also, and desires the property of
others, and seizes upon that which he has desired by injustice, because he
is without virtue, and is subject to vice and sin; and forgetful of his
frailty, he is puffed up with a mind elated with insolence.
From this cause the unjust, and those who are ignorant of God, abound
with riches, and power, and honours. For all these things are the rewards
of injustice, because they cannot be perpetual, and they are sought through
lust and violence. But the just and wise man, because he deems all these
things as human, as it has been said by Laelius, and his own goods as
divine, neither desires anything which belongs to another, lest he should
injure any one at all in violation of the law of humanity; nor does he long
for any power or honour, that he may not do an injury to any one. For he
knows that all are produced by the same God, and in the same condition, and
are joined together by the right of brotherhood.(1) But being contented
with his own, and that a little, because he is mindful of his frailty, he
does not seek for anything beyond that which may support his life; and even
from that which he has he bestows a share on the destitute, because he is
pious; but piety is a very great virtue. To this is added, that he despises
frail and vicious pleasures, for the sake of which riches are desired;
since he is temperate, and master of his passions. He also, having no pride
or insolence, does not raise himself too highly, nor lift up his head with
arrogance; but he is calm and peaceful, lowly(2) and courteous, because he
knows his own condition. Since, therefore, he does injury to none, nor
desires the property of others, and does not even defend his own if it is
taken from him by violence, since he knows how even to bear with moderation
an injury inflicted upon him, because he is endued with virtue; it is
necessary that the just man should be subject to the unjust, and that the
wise should be insulted by the foolish, that the one may sin because he is
unjust, and the other may have virtue in himself because he is just.
But if any one shall wish to know more fully why God permits the wicked
and the unjust to become powerful, happy, and rich, and, on the other hand,
suffers the pious to be humble, wretched, and poor, let him take the book
of Seneca which has the title, "Why many evils happen to good men, though
there is a providence;" in which book he has said many things, not
assuredly with the ignorance of this world, but wisely, and almost with
divine inspiration.(3) "God," he says, "regards men as His children, but He
permits the corrupt and vicious to live in luxury and delicacy, because He
does not think them worthy of His correction. But He often chastises the
good whom He loves, and by continual labours exercises them to the practice
of virtue: nor does He permit them to be corrupted and depraved by frail
and perishable goods." From which it ought to appear strange to no one if
we are often chastised by God for our faults. Yea, rather, when we are
harassed and pressed, then we especially give thanks to our most indulgent
Father, because He does not permit our corruption to proceed to greater
lengths, but corrects it with stripes and blows. From which we understand
that we r are an object of regard to God, since He is angry when we sin.
For when He might have bestowed upon His people both riches and kingdoms,
as He had before given them to the Jews, whose successors and posterity we
are; on this account He would have them live under the power and
government of others, lest, being corrupted by the happiness of prosperity,
they should glide into luxury and despise the precepts of God; as those
ancestors of ours, who, ofttimes enervated by these earthly and frail
goods, departed from discipline and burst the bonds of the law. Therefore
He foresaw how far He would afford rest to His worshippers if they should
keep His commandments, and yet correct them if they did not obey His
precepts. Therefore, lest they should be as much corrupted by ease as their
fathers had been by indulgence,(4) it was His will that they should be
oppressed by those in whose power He placed them, that He may both confirm
them when wavering, and renew them to fortitude when corrupted, and try and
prove them when faithful. For how can a general prove the valour of his
soldiers, unless he shall have an enemy? And yet there arises an adversary
to him against his will, because he is mortal, and is able to be conquered;
but because God cannot be opposed, He Himself stirs up adversaries to His
name, not to fight against God Himself, but against His soldiers, that He
may either prove the devotedness and fidelity of His servants, or may
strengthen them, until He corrects their wasting discipline by the stripes
of affliction.(5)
There is also another cause why He permits persecutions to be carried
on against us, that the people of God may be increased.(6) Nor is it
difficult to show why or how this happens. First of all, great numbers are
driven from the worship of the false gods by their hatred of cruelty. For
who would not shrink from such sacrifices? In the next place, some are
pleased with virtue and faith itself. Some suspect that it is not without
reason that the worship of the gods is considered evil by so many men, so
that they would rather die than do that which others do that they may
preserve their life. Some one desires to know what that good is which is
defended even to death, which is preferred to all things which are
pleasant and beloved in this life, from which neither the loss of goods,
nor of the light, nor bodily pain, nor tortures of the vitals deter them.
These things have great effect; but these causes have always especially
increased the number of our followers. The people who stand around hear
them saying in the midst of these very torments that they do not sacrifice
to stones wrought by the hand of man, but to the living God, who is in
heaven: many understand that this is true, and admit it into their breast.
In the next place, as it is accustomed to happen in matters of uncertainty
while they make inquiry of one another, what is the cause of this
perseverance, many things which relate to religion, being spread abroad and
carefully observed by rumour among one another, are learned; and because
these are good they cannot fail to please. Moreover, the revenge which
follows, as always happens, greatly impels men to believe. Nor, indeed, is
it a slight cause that the unclean spirits of demons, having received
permission, throw themselves into the bodies of many; and when these have
afterwards been driven out, they who have been healed cling to the
religion, the power of which they have experienced. These numerous causes
being collected together, wonderfully gain over a great multitude to
God.(1)
CHAP. XXIV.--OF THE DIVINE VENGEANCE INFLICTED ON THE TORTURERS OF THE
CHRISTIANS.
Whatever, therefore, wicked princes plan against us, God Himself
permits to be done. And yet most unjust persecutors, to whom the name of
God was a subject of reproach and mockery, must not think that they will
escape with impunity, because they have been, as it were, the ministers of
His indignation against us. For they will be punished with the judgment of
God, who, having received power, have abused it to an inhuman degree, and
have even insulted God in their arrogance, and placed His eternal name
beneath their feet, to be impiously and wickedly trampled upon. On this
account He promises that He will quickly take vengeance upon them, and
exterminate the evil monsters(2) from the earth. But He also, although He
is accustomed to avenge the persecutions(3) of His people even in the
present world, commands us, however, to await patiently that day of
heavenly judgment, in which He Himself will honour or punish every man
according to his deserts. Therefore let not the souls of the sacrilegious
expect that those whom they thus trample upon will be despised and
unavenged. Those ravenous and voracious wolves who have tormented just and
innocent souls, without the commission of any crimes, will surely meet with
their reward. Only let us labour, that nothing else in us may be punished
by men but righteousness alone: let us strive with all our power that we
may at once deserve at the hands of God the avenging of our suffering and a
reward.
THE DIVINE INSTITUTES
BOOK VI.
OF TRUE WORSHIP.
CHAP. I.--OF THE WORSHIP OF THE TRUE GOD, AND OF INNOCENCY, AND OF THE
WORSHIP OF FALSE GODS.
We have completed that which was the object of our undertaking, through
the teaching of the Divine Spirit, and the aid of the truth itself; the
cause of asserting and explaining which was imposed upon me both by
conscience and faith, and by our Lord Himself, without whom nothing can be
known or clearly set forth. I come now to that which is the chief and
greatest part of this work--to teach in what manner or by what sacrifice
God must be worshipped. For that is the duty of man, and in that one object
the sum of all things and the whole course of a happy life consists, since
we were fashioned and received the breath of life from Him on this account,
not that we might behold the heaven and the sun, as Anaxagoras supposed,
but that we might with pure and uncorrupted mind worship Him who made the
sun and the heaven. But although in the preceding books, as far as my
moderate talent permitted, I defended the truth, yet it may especially be
elucidated(1) by the mode of worship itself. For that sacred and surpassing
majesty requires from man nothing more than innocence alone; and if any one
has presented this to God, he has sacrificed with sufficient piety and
religion. But men, neglecting justice, though they are polluted by crimes
and outrages of all kinds, think themselves religious if they have stained
the temples and altars with the blood of victims, if they have moistened
the hearths with a profusion of fragrant and old wine. Moreover, they also
prepare sacred feasts and choice banquets, as though, they offered to those
who would taste something from them. Whatever is rarely to be viewed,
whatever is precious in workmanship or in fragrance, that they judge to be
pleasing to their gods, not by any reference to their divinity, of which
they are ignorant, but from their own desires; nor do they understand that
God is in no want of earthly resources.
For they have no knowledge of anything except the earth, and they
estimate good and evil things by the perception and pleasure of the body
alone. And as they judge of religion according to its pleasure, so also
they arrange the acts of their whole life. And since they have turned away
once for all from the contemplation of the heaven, and have made that
heavenly faculty the slave of the body, they give the reins to their lusts,
as though they were about to bear away pleasure with themselves, which they
hasten to enjoy at every moment; whereas the soul ought to employ the
service of the body, and not the booty to make use of the service of the
soul. The same men judge riches to be the greatest good. And if they cannot
obtain them by good practices, they endeavour to obtain them by evil
practices; they deceive, they carry off by violence, they plunder, they lie
in wait, they deny on oath; in short, they have no consideration or regard
for anything,(2) if only they can glitter with gold, and shine conspicuous
with plate, with jewels, and with garments, can spend riches upon their
greedy appetite, and always walk attended with crowds of slaves through the
people compelled to give way.(3) Thus devoting(4) themselves to the service
of pleasures, they extinguish the force and vigour of the mind; and when
they especially think that they are alive, they are hastening with the
greatest precipitation to death. For, as we showed in the second book. the
soul is concerned with heaven, the body with the earth.(5) They who neglect
the goods of the soul, and seek those of the body, are engaged with
darkness and death, which belong to the earth and to the body, because life
and light are from heaven; and they who are without this, by serving the
body, are far removed from the understanding of divine things. The same
blindness everywhere oppresses the wretched men; for as they know not who
is the true God, so they know not what constitutes true worship.
CHAP. II.--OF THE WORSHIP OF FALSE GODS AND THE TRUE GOD.
Therefore they sacrifice fine and fat victims to God, as though He were
hungry; they pour forth wine to Him, as though He were thirsty they kindle
lights to Him, as though He were in darkness.(1) But if they were able to
conjecture or to conceive in their mind what those heavenly goods are, the
greatness of which we cannot imagine, while we are still encompassed with
an earthly body, they would at once know that they are most foolish with
their empty offices. Or if they would contemplate that heavenly light which
we call the sun, they will at once perceive how God has no need of their
candles, who has Himself given so clear and bright a light for the use of
man.(1) And when, in so small a circle, which on account of its distance
appears to have a measure no greater than that of a human head, there is
still so much brilliancy that mortal eye cannot behold it, and if you
should direct your eye to it for a short time mist and darkness would
overspread your dimmed eyes, what light, I pray, what brightness, must we
suppose that there is in God, with whom there is no night? For He has so
attempered this very light, that it might neither injure living creatures
by excessive brightness or vehement heat, and has given it so much of these
properties as mortal bodies might endure or the ripening of the crops
require. Is that man, therefore, to be thought in his senses, who presents
the light of candles and torches as an offering to Him who is the Author
and Giver of light? The light which He requires from us is of another kind,
and that indeed not accompanied with smoke, but (as the poet says) clear
and bright; I mean the light of the mind, on account of which we are called
by the poets photes,(2) which light no one can exhibit unless he has known
God. But their gods, because they are of the earth, stand in need of
lights, that they may not be in darkness; and their worshippers, because
they have no taste for anything heavenly, are recalled to the earth even by
the religious rites to which they are devoted.(1) For on the earth there
is need of a light, because its system and nature are dark. Therefore they
do not attribute to the gods a heavenly perception, but rather a human one.
And on this account they believe that the same things are necessary and
pleasing to them as to us, who, when hungry, have need of food; or, when
thirsty, of drink; or, when we are cold, require a garment; or, when the
sun has withdrawn himself, require a light that we may be able to see.(3)
From nothing, therefore, can it be so plainly proved and understood
that those gods, since they once lived, are dead, as from their worship
itself, which is altogether of the earth. For what heavenly influence can
there be in the shedding of the blood of beasts, with which they stain
their altars? unless by chance they imagine that the gods feed upon that
which men shrink from touching. And whoever shall have offered to them this
food,(4) although he be an assassin, an adulterer, a sorcerer, or a
parricide, he will he happy and prosperous. Him they love, him they defend,
to him they afford all things which he shall wish for. Persius therefore
deservedly ridicules superstitions of this kind in his own style:(5) "
With what bribe," he says, "dost thou win the ears of gods? Is it with
lungs and rich intestines?" He plainly perceived that there is no need of
flesh for appeasing the majesty of heaven, but of a pure mind and a just
spirit, and a breast, as he himself says, which is generous with a natural
love of honour. This is the religion of heaven--not that which consists of
corrupt things, but of the virtues of the soul, which has its origin from
heaven; this is true worship, in which the mind of the worshipper presents
itself as an undefiled offering to God. But how this is to be obtained, how
it is to be afforded, the discussion of this book will show; for nothing
can be so illustrious and so suited to man as to train men to
righteousness.(6)
In Cicero, Catulus in the Hortensius, while he prefers philosophy to
all things, says that he would rather have one short treatise respecting
duty, than a long speech in behalf of a seditious man Cornelius. And this
is plainly to be regarded not as the opinion of Catulus, who perhaps did
not utter this saying, but as that of Cicero, who wrote it. I believe that
he wrote it for the purpose of recommending these books which he was about
to write on Offices, in which cry books he testifies that nothing in the
whole range of philosophy is better and more profitable than to give
precepts for living. But if this is done by those who do not know the
truth, how much more ought we to do it, who are able to give true
precepts,(1) being taught and enlightened by God? Nor, however, shall we so
teach as though we were delivering the first elements of virtue, which
would be an endless task, but as though we had undertaken the instruction
of him who, with them, appears to be already perfect. For while their
precepts remain, which they are accustomed to give correctly, with a view
to uprightness, we will add to them things which were unknown to them, for
the completion and consummation of righteousness, which they do not
possess. But I will omit those things which are common to us with them,
that I may not appear to borrow from those whose errors I have determined
to convict and bring to light.
CHAP. III.--OF THE WAYS, AND OF VICES AND VIRTUES; AND OF THE REWARDS OF
HEAVEN AND THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL.
There are two ways,(2) O Emperor Constantine, by which human life must
proceed--the one which leads to heaven, the other which sinks to hell; and
these ways poets have introduced in their poems, and philosophers in their
disputations. And indeed philosophers have represented the one as belonging
to virtues, the other to vices; and they have represented that which
belongs to virtues as steep and rugged at the first entrance, in which if
any one, having overcome the difficulty, has climbed to the summit. they
say that he afterwards has a level path, a bright and pleasant plain, and
that he enjoys abundant and delightful fruits of his labours; but that
those whom the difficulty of the first approach has deterred, glide and
turn aside into the way of vices, which at its first entrance appears to be
pleasant and much more beaten, but afterwards, when they have advanced in
it a little further, that the appearance of its pleasantness is withdrawn,
and that there arises a steep way, now rough with stones, now overspread
with thorns, now interrupted by deep waters or violent with torrents, so
that they must be in difficulty, hesitate, slip about, and fall. And all
these things are brought forward that it may appear that there are very
great labours in undertaking virtues, but that when they are gained there
are the greatest advantages, and firm and incorruptible pleasures; but that
vices ensnare the minds of men with certain natural blandishments, and lead
them captivated by the appearance of empty pleasures to bitter griefs and
miseries,--an altogether wise discussion, if they knew the forms and limits
of the virtues themselves. For they had not learned either what they are,
or what reward awaits them from God: but this we will show in these two
books.
But these men, because they were ignorant or in doubt that the souls of
men are immortal, estimated both virtues and vices by earthly honours or
punishments. Therefore all this discussion respecting the two ways(3) has
reference to frugality and luxury. For they say that the course of human
life resembles the letter Y, because every one of men, when he has reached
the threshold of early youth, and has arrived at the place "where the way
divides itself into two parts,'"(4) is in doubt, and hesitates, and does
not know to which side he should rather turn himself. If he shall meet with
a guide who may direct him wavering to better things--that is, if he shall
learn philosophy or eloquence, or some honourable arts by which he may turn
to good conduct,(5) which cannot take place without great labour--they say
that he will lead a life of honour and abundance; but if he shall not meet
with a teacher of temperance,(6) that he falls into the way on the left
hand, which assumes the appearance of the better,--that is, he gives
himself up to idleness, sloth, and luxury, which seem pleasant for a time
to one who is ignorant of true goods, but that afterwards, having lost all
his dignity and property, he will live in all wretchedness and ignominy.
Therefore they referred the end of those ways(3) to the body, and to this
life which we lead on earth. The poets perhaps did better, who would have
it that this twofold way was in the lower regions; but they are deceived in
this, that they proposed these ways to the dead. Both therefore spoke with
truth, but yet both incorrectly; for the ways themselves ought to have been
referred to life, their ends to death. We therefore speak better and more
truly, who say that the two ways(3) belong to heaven and hell, because
immortality is promised to the righteous, and everlasting punishment is
threatened to the unrighteous.
But I will explain how these ways either exalt to heaven or thrust down
to hell, and I will set forth what these virtues are of which the
philosophers were ignorant; then I will show what are their rewards, and
also what are vices, and what their punishments. For perhaps some one may
expect that I shall speak separately of vices and virtues; whereas, when we
discuss the subject of good or evil, that which is contrary may also be
understood. For, whether you introduce virtues, vices will spontaneously
depart; or if you take away vices, virtues will of their own accord
succeed. The nature of good and evil things is so fixed, that they always
oppose and drive out one another: and thus it comes to pass that vices
cannot be removed without virtues, nor can virtues be introduced without
the removal of vices. Therefore we bring forward these ways in a very
different manner from that in which the philosophers are accustomed to
present them: first of all, because we say that a guide is proposed to
each, and in each case an immortal: but that the one is honoured who
presides over virtues and good qualities, the other condemned who presides
over vices and evils. But they place a guide only on the right side, and
that not one only, nor a lasting one; inasmuch as they introduce any
teacher of a good art, who may recall men from sloth, and teach them to be
temperate. But they do not represent any as entering upon that way except
boys and young men; for this reason, that the arts are learned at these
ages. We, on the other hand, lead those of each sex, every age and race,
into this heavenly path, because God, who is the guide of that way, denies
immortality to no human being.(1) The shape also of the ways themselves is
not as they supposed. For what need is there of the letter Y in matters
which are different and opposed to one another? But the one which is better
is turned towards the rising of the sun, the other which is worse towards
its setting: since he who follows truth and righteousness, having received
the reward of immortality, will enjoy perpetual light; but he who, enticed
by that evil guide, shall prefer vices to virtues, falsehood to truth, must
be borne to the setting of the sun, and to darkness.(2) I will therefore
describe each, and will point out their properties and habits.
CHAP. IV.--OF THE WAYS OF LIFE, OF PLEASURES, ALSO OF THE HARDSHIPS OF
CHRISTIANS.
There is one way, therefore, of virtue and the good, which leads, not,
as the poets say, to the Elysian plains, but to the very citadel of the
world:--
"The left gives sinners up to pain,
And leads to Tartarus' guilty reign."(3)
For it belongs to that accuser who, having invented false religions, turns
men away from the heavenly path, and leads them into the way of perdition.
And the appearance and shape of this way is so composed to the sight, that
it appears to be level and open, and delightful with all kinds of flowers
and fruits. For there are placed(4) in it all things which are esteemed on
earth as good things--I mean wealth, honour, repose, pleasure, all kinds of
enticements; but together with these also injustice, cruelty, pride,
perfidy, lust, avarice, discord, ignorance, falsehood, folly, and other
vices. But the end of this way is as follows: When they have reached the
point from which there is now no return, it is so suddenly removed,
together with all its beauty, that no one is able to foresee the fraud
before that he falls headlong into a deep abyss. For whoever is captivated
by the appearance of present goods, and occupied with the pursuit and
enjoyment of these, shall not have foreseen the things which are about to
follow after death, and shall have turned aside from God; he truly will be
cast down to hell, and be condemned to eternal punishment.
But that heavenly way is set forth as difficult and hilly, or rough
with dreadful thorns, or entangled with stones jutting out; so that every
one must walk with the greatest labour and wearing of the feet, and with
great precautions against failing. In this he has placed justice,
temperance, patience, faith, chastity, self-restraint, concord, knowledge,
truth, wisdom, and the other virtues; hut together with these, poverty,
ignominy, labour, pain, and all kinds of hardship. For whoever has extended
his hope beyond the present, and chosen better things, will be without
these earthly goods, that, being lightly equipped and without impediment,
he may overcome the difficulty of the way. For it is impossible for him who
has surrounded himself with royal pomp, or loaded himself with riches,
either to enter upon or to persevere in these difficulties. And from this
it is understood that it is easier for the wicked and the unrighteous to
succeed in their desires, because their road is downward and on the
decline; but that it is difficult for the good to attain to their wishes,
because they walk along a difficult and steep path. Therefore the righteous
man, since he has entered upon a hard and rugged way, must be an object of
contempt, derision, and hatred. For all whom desire or pleasure drags
headlong, envy him who has been able to attain to virtue, and take it ill
that any one possesses that which they themselves do not possess. Therefore
he will be poor, humble, ignoble, subject to injury, and yet enduring all
things which are grievous; and if he shall continue his patience
unceasingly to that last step and end, the crown of virtue will be given to
him, and he will be rewarded by God with immortality for the labours which
he has endured in life for the sake of righteousness. These are the ways
which God has assigned to human life, in each of which he has shown both
good and evil things, but in a changed and inverted order. In the one he
has pointed out in the first place temporal evils followed by eternal
goods, which is the better order; in the other, first temporal goods
followed by eternal evils, which is the worse order: so that, whosoever has
chosen present evils together with righteousness, he will obtain greater
and more certain goods than those were which he despised; but whoever has
preferred present goods to righteousness, will fall into greater and more
lasting evils than those were which he avoided. For as this bodily life is
short, therefore its goods and evils must also be short; but since that
spiritual life, which is contrary to this earthly life, is everlasting,
therefore its goods and evils are also everlasting. Thus it comes to pass,
that goods of short duration are succeeded by eternal evils, and evils of
short duration by eternal goods.
Since, therefore, good and evil things are set before man at the same
time, it is befitting that every one should consider with himself how much
better it is to compensate evils of short duration by perpetual goods, than
to endure perpetual evils for short and perishable goods. For as, in this
life, when a contest with an enemy is set before you, you must first labour
that you may afterwards enjoy repose, you must suffer hunger and thirst,
you must endure heat and cold, you must rest on the ground, must watch and
undergo dangers, that your children,(1) and house, and property being
preserved, you may be able to enjoy all the blessings of peace and victory;
but if you should choose present ease in preference to labour, you must do
yourself the greatest injury: for the enemy will surprise you offering no
resistance, your lands will be laid waste, your house plundered, your wife
and children become a prey, you yourself will be slain or taken prisoner;
to prevent the occurrence of these things, present advantage must be put
aside, that a greater and more lasting advantage may be gained;--so in the
whole of this life, because God has provided an adversary for us, that we
might be able to acquire virtue, present gratification must be laid aside,
lest the enemy should overpower us. We must be on the watch, must post
guards, must undertake military expeditions, must shed our blood to the
uttermost; in short, we must patiently submit to all things which are
unpleasant and grievous, and the more readily because God our commander has
appointed for us eternal rewards for our labours. And since in this earthly
warfare men expend so much labour to acquire for themselves those things
which may perish in the same manner as that in which they were acquired,
assuredly no labour ought to be refused by us, by whom that is gained which
can in no way be lost.
For God, who created men to this warfare, desired that they should
stand prepared in battle array, and with minds keenly intent should watch
against the stratagems or open attacks of our single enemy, who, as is the
practice of skilful and experienced generals, endeavours to ensnare us by
various arts, directing his rage according to the nature and disposition of
each. For he infuses into some insatiable avarice, that, being chained by
their riches as by fetters, he may drive them from the way of truth. He
inflames others with the excitement of anger, that while they are rather
intent upon inflicting injury, he may turn them aside from the
contemplation of God. He plunges others into immoderate lusts, that, giving
themselves to pleasure of the body, they may be unable to look towards
virtue. He inspires others with envy, that, being occupied with their own
torments, they may think of nothing but the happipiness of those whom they
hate. He causes others to swell with ambitious desires. These are they who
direct the whole occupation and care of their life to the holding of
magistracies, that they may set a mark upon the annals,(2) and give a name
to the years. The desire of others mounts higher, not that they may rule
provinces with the temporal sword, but with boundless and perpetual power
may wish to be called lords of the whole human race.(3) Moreover, those
whom he has seen to be pious he involves in various(4) superstitions, that
he may make them impious. But to those who seek for wisdom, he dashes
philosophy before their eyes,(5) that he may blind them with the appearance
of light, lest any one should grasp and hold fast the truth. Thus he has
blocked up all the approaches against men, and has occupied the way,
rejoicing in public errors; but that we might be able to dispel these
errors, and to overcome the author of evils himself, God has enlightened
us, and has armed us with true and heavenly virtue, respecting which I must
now speak.
CHAP. V.--OF FALSE AND TRUE VIRTUE; AND OF KNOWLEDGE.
But before I begin to set forth the separate virtues, I must mark out
the character of virtue itself, which the philosophers have not rightly
defined, as to its nature, or in what things it consisted; and I must
describe its operation and office. For they only retained the name, but
lost its power, and nature, and effect. But whatever they are accustomed to
say in their definition of virtue, Lucilius puts together and expresses in
a few verses, which I prefer to introduce, lest, while I refute the
opinions of many, I should be longer than is necessary:--
"It is virtue, O Albinus, to pay the proper price,
To attend to the matters in which we are engaged, and in which we live.
It is virtue for a man to know the nature of everything.
It is virtue for a man to know what is right and useful and honourable,
What things are good, and what are evil.
What is useless,(1) base, and dishonourable.
It is virtue to know the end of an object to be sought, and the means
of procuring it.
It is virtue to be able to assign their value to riches.
It is virtue to give that which is really due to honour;
To be the enemy and the foe(2) of bad men and manners, but, on the
other hand, the defender of good men and manners;
To esteem these highly, to wish them well, to live in friendship with
them,
Moreover, to consider the interest of one's country first;
Then those of parents, to put our own interests in the third and last
place."
From these definitions, which the poet briefly puts together, Marcus
Tullius derived the offices of living, following Panaetius the Stoic,(3)
and included them in three books.
But we shall presently see how false these things are, that it may
appear how much the divine condescension has bestowed on us in opening to
us the truth. He says that it is virtue to know what is good and evil, what
is base, what is honourable, what is useful, what is useless. He might have
shortened his treatise if he had only spoken of that which is good and
evil; for nothing can be useful or honourable which is not also good, and
nothing useless and base which is not also evil. And this also appears to
be thus to philosophers, and Cicero shows it likewise in the third book of
the above-mentioned treatise.(4) But knowledge cannot be virtue, because it
is not within us, but it comes to us from without.But that which is able to
pass from one to the other is not virtue, because virtue is the property of
each individual. Knowledge therefore consists in a benefit derived from
another; for it depends upon hearing. Virtue is altogether our own; for it
depends upon the will of doing that which is good. As, therefore, in
undertaking a journey, it is of no profit to know the way, unless we also
have the effort and strength for walking, so truly knowledge is of no avail
if our virtue fails. For, in general, even they who sin perceive what is
good and evil, though not perfectly; and as often as they act improperly,
they know that they sin, and therefore endeavour to conceal their actions.
But though the nature of good and evil does not escape their notice, they
are overpowered by an evil desire to sin, because they are wanting in
virtue, that is, the desire of doing right and honourable things. Therefore
that the knowledge of good and evil is one thing, and virtue another,
appears from this, because knowledge can exist without virtue, as it has
been in the case of many of the philosophers; in which, since not to have
done what you knew to be right is justly censurable, a depraved will and a
vicious mind, which ignorance cannot excuse, will be justly punished.
Therefore, as the knowledge of good and evil is not virtue, so the doing
that which is good and the abstaining from evil is virtue. And yet
[knowledge is so united with virtue, that knowledge precedes virtue, and
virtue follows knowledge; because knowledge is of no avail unless it is
followed up by action. Horace therefore speaks somewhat better: "Virtue is
the fleeing from vice, and the first wisdom is to be free from folly."(5)
But he speaks improperly, because he defined virtue by its contrary, as
though he should say, That is good which is not evil. For when I know not
what virtue is, I do not know what vice is. Each therefore requires
definition, because the nature of the case is such that each must be
understood or not understood.(6)
But let us do that which he ought to have done. It is a virtue to
restrain anger, to control desire, to curb lust; for this is to flee from
vice. For almost all things which are done unjustly and dishonestly arise
from these affections. For if the force of this emotion which is called
anger be blunted, all the evil contentions of men will be lulled to rest;
no one will plot, no one will rush forth to injure another. Also, if desire
be restrained, no one will use violence by land or by sea, no one will lead
an army to carry off and lay waste the property of others. Also, if the
ardour of lusts be repressed, every age and sex will retain its sanctity;
no one will suffer, or do anything disgraceful. Therefore all crimes and
disgraceful actions will be taken away from the life and character of men,
if these emotions are appeased and calmed by virtue. And this calming of
the emotions and affections has this meaning, that we do all things which
are right. The whole duty of virtue then is, not to sin. And assuredly he
cannot discharge this who is ignorant of God, since ignorance of Him from
whom good things proceed must thrust a man unawares into vices. Therefore,
that I may more briefly and significantly fix the offices of each subject,
knowledge is to know God, virtue is to worship Him: the former implies
wisdom, the latter righteousness.
CHAP. VI.--OF THE CHIEF GOOD AND VIRTUE, AND Or KNOWLEDGE AND
RIGHTEOUSNESS.
I have said that which was the first thing, that the knowledge of good
is not virtue; and secondly, I have shown what virtue is, and in what it
consists. It follows that I should show this also, that the philosophers
were ignorant of what is good and evil; and this briefly, because it has
been almost(1) made plain in the third book, when I was discussing the
subject of the chief good. And because they did not know what the chief
good was, they necessarily erred in the case of the other goods and evils
which are not the chief; for no one can weigh these with a true judgment
who does not possess the fountain itself from which they are derived. Now
the source of good things is God; but of evils, he who is always the enemy
of the divine name, of whom we have often spoken. From these two sources
good and evil things have their origin. Those which proceed from God have
this object, to procure immortality, which is the greatest good; but those
which arise from the other have this office, to call man away from heavenly
things and sink him in earthly things, and thus to consign him to the
punishment of everlasting death, which is the greatest evil. Is it
therefore doubtful but that all those were ignorant of what was good and
evil, who neither knew God nor the adversary of God? Therefore they
referred the end of good things to the body, and to this short life, which
must be dissolved and perish: they did not advance further. But all their
precepts, and all the things which they introduce as goods, adhere to the
earth, and lie on the ground, since they die with the body, which is earth;
for they do not tend to procure life for man, but either to the acquisition
or increase of riches, honour, glory, and power, which are altogether
mortal things, as much so indeed as he who has laboured to obtain them.
Hence is that saying,(2) "It is virtue to know the end of an object(3) to
be sought, and the means of procuring it;" for they enjoin by what means
and by what practices property is to be sought, for they see that it is
often sought unjustly. But virtue of this kind is not proposed to the wise
man; for it is not virtue to seek riches, of which neither the finding nor
the possession is in our power: therefore they are more easy to be gained
and to be retained by the bad than by the good. Virtue, then, cannot
consist in the seeking of those things in the despising of which the force
and purport of virtue appears; nor will it have recourse to those very
things which, with its great and lofty mind, it desires to trample upon and
bruise under foot; nor is it lawful for a soul which is earnestly fixed on
heavenly goods to be called away from its immortal pursuits, that it may
acquire for itself these frail things. But the course(4) of virtue
especially consists in the acquisition of those things which neither any
man, nor death itself, can take away from us. Since these things are so,
that which follows is true: "It is virtue to be able to assign their value
to riches:" which verse is nearly of the same meaning as the first two. But
neither he nor any of the philosophers was able to know the price itself,
either of what nature or what it is; for the poet, and all those whom he
followed, thought that it meant to make a right use of riches,--that is, to
be moderate in living, not to make costly entertainments, not to squander
carelessly, not to expend property on superfluous or disgraceful
objects.(5)
Some one will perhaps say, What do you say? Do you deny that this is
virtue? I do not deny it indeed; for if I should deny it, I should appear
to prove the opposite. But I deny that it is true virtue; because it is not
that heavenly principle, but is altogether of the earth, since it produces
no effect but that which remains on the earth.(6) But what it is to make a
right use of wealth, and what advantage is to be sought from riches, I will
declare more openly when I shall begin to speak of the duty of piety. Now
the other things which follow are by no means true; for to proclaim enmity
against the wicked, or to undertake the defence of the good, may be common
to it with the evil. For some, by a pretence of goodness, prepare the way
for themselves to power, and do many things which the good are accustomed
to do, and that the more readily because they do them for the sake of
deceiving; and I wish that it were as easy to carry out goodness in action
as it is to pretend to it. But when they have begun to attain to their
purpose and their wish in reaching the highest step of power, then, truly
laying aside pretence, these men discover their character; they seize upon
everything, and offer violence, and lay waste; and they press upon the good
themselves, whose cause they had undertaken; and they cut away the steps by
which they mounted, that no one may be able to imitate them against
themselves. But, however, let us suppose that this duty of defending the
good belongs only to the good man. Yet to undertake it is easy, to fulfil
it is difficult; because when you have committed yourself to a contest and
an encounter, the victory is placed at the disposal of God, not in your own
power. And for the most part the wicked are more powerful both in number
and in combination than the good, so that it is not so much virtue which is
necessary to overcome them as good fortune. Is any one ignorant how often
the better and the juster side has been overcome? From this cause harsh
tyrannies have always broken out against the citizens. All history is full
of examples, but we will be content with one. Cnoeus Pompeius wished to be
the defender of the good, since he took up arms in defence of the
commonwealth, in defence of the senate, and in defence of liberty; and yet
the same man, being conquered, perished together with liberty itself,(1)
and being mutilated by Egyptian eunuchs, was cast forth unburied.(2)
It is not virtue, therefore, either to be the enemy of the bad or the
defender of the good, because virtue cannot be subject to uncertain
chances.
"Moreover, to reckon the interests of our country as in the first
place."
When the agreement of men is taken away, virtue has no existence at all;
for what are the interests of our country, but the inconveniences of
another state or nation?--that is, to extend the boundaries which are
violently taken from others, to increase the power of the state, to improve
the revenues,--all which things are not virtues, but the overthrowing of
virtues: for, in the first place, the union of human society is taken
away, innocence is taken away, the abstaining from the property of another
is taken away; lastly, justice itself is taken away, which is unable to
bear the tearing asunder of the human race, and wherever arms have
glittered, must be banished and exterminated from thence. This saying of
Cicero(3) is true: "But they who say that regard is to be had to citizens,
but that it is not to be had to foreigners, these destroy the common
society of the human race; and when this is removed, beneficence,
liberality, kindness, and justice are entirely(4) taken away." For how can
a man be just who injures, who hates, who despoils, who puts to death? And
they who strive to be serviceable to their country do all these things: for
they are ignorant of what this being serviceable is, who think nothing
useful, nothing advantageous, but that which can be held b the hand; and
this alone cannot be held, because it may be snatched away.
Whoever, then, has gained for his country these goods--as they
themselves call them--that is, who by the overthrow of cities and the
destruction of nations has filled the treasury with money, has taken lands
and enriched his country-men--he is extolled with praises to the heaven: in
him there is said to be the greatest and perfect virtue. And this is the
error not only of the people and the ignorant, but also of philosophers,
who even give precepts for injustice, test folly and wickedness should be
wanting in discipline and authority. Therefore, when they are speaking of
the duties relating to warfare, all that discourse is accommodated neither
to justice nor to true virtue, but to this life and to civil
institutions;(5) and that this is not justice the matter itself declares,
and Cicero has testified.(6) "But we," he says, "are not in possession of
the real and life-like figure of true law and genuine justice, we have
nothing but delineations and sketches;(7) and I wish that we followed even
these, for they are taken from the excellent copies made by nature and
truth." It is then a delineation and a sketch which they thought to be
justice. But what of wisdom? does not the same man confess that it has no
existence in philosophers "Nor," he says,(8) "when Fabricius or Aristides
is called just, is an example of justice sought from these as from a wise
man; for none of these is wise in the sense in which we wish the truly wise
to be understood. Nor were they who are esteemed and called wise, Marcus
Cato and Caius Laelius, actually wise, nor those well-known seven;(9) but
from their constant practice of the 'middle duties,'(10) they bore a
certain likeness and appearance(11) of wise men." If therefore wisdom is
taken away from the philosophers by their own confession, and justice is
taken away from those who are regarded as just, it follows that all those
descriptions of virtue must be false, because no one can know what true
virtue is but he who is just and wise. But no one is just and wise but he
whom God has instructed with heavenly precepts.
CHAP. VII.--OF THE WAY OF ERROR AND OF TRUTH: THAT IT IS SINGLE, NARROW,
AND STEEP, AND HAS GOD FOR ITS GUIDE.
For all those who, by the confessed folly of others, are thought wise,
being clothed with the appearance of virtue, grasp at shadows and outlines,
but at nothing true. Which happens on this account, because that deceitful
road which; inclines to the west has many paths, on account of the variety
of pursuits and systems which are dissimilar and varied in the life of men.
For as that way of wisdom contains something which resembles folly, as we
showed in the preceding book, so this way, which belongs altogether to
folly, contains something which resembles wisdom, and they who perceive the
folly of men in general seize upon this; and as it has its vices manifest,
so it has something which appears to resemble virtue: as it has its
wickedness open, so it has a likeness and appearance of justice. For how
could the forerunner(1) of that way, whose strength and power are
altogether in deceit, lead men altogether into fraud, unless he showed them
some things which resembled the truth?(2) For, that His immortal secret
might be hidden, God placed in his way things which men might despise as
evil and disgraceful, that, turning away from wisdom and truth, which they
were searching for without any guide, they might fall upon that very thing
which they desired to avoid and flee from. Therefore he points out that way
of destruction and death which has many windings, either because there are
many kinds of life, or because there are many gods who are worshipped.
The deceitful(3) and treacherous guide of this way, that there may
appear to be some distinction between truth and falsehood, good and evil,
reads the luxurious in one direction, and those who are called temperate(4)
in another; the ignorant in one direction, the learned in another; the
sluggish in one direction, the active in another; the foolish in one
direction, the philosophers in another, and even these not in one path. For
those who do not shun pleasures or riches, he withdraws a little from this
public and frequented road; but those who either wish to follow virtue, or
profess a contempt for things, he drags over certain rugged precipices. But
nevertheless all those paths which display an appearance of honours are not
different roads, but turnings off(5) and bypaths, which appear indeed to be
separated from that common one. and to branch off to the right, but yet
return to the same, and all lead at the very end to one issue. For that
guide unites them all, where it was necessary that the good should be
separated from the bad, the strong from the inactive, the wise from the
foolish; namely, in the worship of the gods, in which he slays them all
with one sword, because they were all foolish without any distinction, and
plunges them into death. But this way--which is that of truth, and wisdom,
and virtue, and justice, of all which there is but one fountain, one source
of strength, one abode--is both simple,(6) because with like minds, and
with the utmost agreement, we follow and worship one God; and it is narrow,
because virtue is given to the smaller number; and steep, because goodness,
which is very high and lofty, cannot be attained to without the greatest
difficulty and labour.
CHAP. VIII.--OF THE ERRORS OF PHILOSOPHERS, AND THE VARIABLENESS OF LAW.
This is the way which philosophers seek, but do not find on this
account, because they prefer to seek it on the earth, where it cannot
appear. Therefore they wander, as it were, on the great sea, and do not
understand whither they are borne, because they neither discern the way nor
follow any guide. For this way of life ought to be sought in the same
manner in which their course is sought by ships over the deep: for unless
they observe some light of heaven, they wander with uncertain courses. But
whoever strives to hold the right course of life ought not to look to the
earth, but to the heaven: and, to speak more plainly, he ought not to
follow man, but God; not to serve these earthly images, but the heavenly
God; not to measure all things by their reference to the body, but by their
reference to the soul; not to attend to this life, but the eternal life.
Therefore, if you always direct your eyes towards heaven, and observe the
sun, where it rises, and take this as the guide of your life, as in the
case of a voyage, your feet will spontaneously be directed into the way;
and that heavenly light, which is a much brighter sun(7) to sound minds
than this which we behold in mortal flesh, will so rule and govern you as
to lead you without any error to the most excellent harbour of wisdom and
virtue.
Therefore the law of God must be undertaken, which may direct us to
this path; that sacred, that heavenly law, which Marcus Tullius, in his
third book respecting the Republic,(8) has described almost with a divine
voice; whose words have subjoined, that I might not speak at greater
length: "There is indeed a true law, right reason, agreeing with nature,
diffused among all, unchanging, everlasting, which calls to duty by
commanding, deters from wrong by forbidding; which, however, neither
commands nor forbids the good in vain, nor affects the wicked by commanding
or forbidding. It is not allowable to alter(1) the provisions of this law,
nor is it permitted us to modify it, nor can it be entirely abrogated.(1)
Nor, truly, can we be released from this law, either by the senate or by
the people; nor is another person to be sought to explain or interpret it.
Nor will there be one law at Rome and another at Athens; one law at the
present time, and another hereafter: but the same law, everlasting and
unchangeable, will bind all nations at all times; and there will be one
common Master and Ruler of all, even God, the framer, arbitrator, and
proposer of this law; and he who shall not obey this will flee from
himself, and, despising the nature of man, will suffer the greatest
punishments through this very thing, even though he shall have escaped the
other punishments which are supposed to exist." Who that is acquainted with
the mystery of God could so significantly relate the law of God, as a man
far removed from the knowledge of the truth has set forth that law? But I
consider that they who speak true things unconsciously are to be so
regarded as though they prophesied(2) under the influence of some spirit.
But if he had known or explained this also, in what precepts the law itself
consisted, as he clearly saw the force and purport of the divine law, he
would not have discharged the office of a philosopher, but of a prophet.
And because he was unable to do this, it must be done by us, to whom the
law itself has been delivered by the one great Master and Ruler of all,
God.
CHAP. IX.--OF THE LAW AND PRECEPT OF GOD; OF MERCY, AND THE ERROR OF THE
PHILOSOPHERS.
The first head of this law is, to know God Himself, to obey Him alone,
to worship Him alone. For he cannot maintain the character of a man who is
ignorant of God, the parent of his soul: which is the greatest impiety. For
this ignorance causes him to serve other gods, and no greater crime than
this can be committed. Hence there is now so easy a step to wickedness
through ignorance of the truth and of the chief good; since God, from the
knowledge of whom he shrinks, is Himself the fountain of goodness. Or if he
shall wish to follow the justice of God, yet, being ignorant of the divine
law, he embraces the laws of his own country as true justice, though they
were clearly devised not by justice, but by utility. For why is it that
there are different and various laws amongst all people, but that each
nation has enacted for itself that which it deemed useful for its own
affairs? But how greatly utility differs from justice the Roman people
themselves teach, who, by proclaiming war through the Fecials, and by
inflicting injuries according to legal forms, by always desiring and
carrying off the property of other, have gained for themselves the
possession of the whole world.(3) But these persons think themselves just
if they do nothing against their own laws; which may be even ascribed to
fear, if they abstain from crimes through dread of present punishment. But
let us grant that they do that naturally, or, as the philosopher says, of
their own accord, which they are compelled to do by the laws. Will they
therefore be just, because they obey the institutions of men, who may
themselves have erred, or have been unjust?--as it was with the framers of
the twelve tables, who certainly promoted the public advantage according to
the condition of the times. Civil law is one thing, which varies everywhere
according to customs; but justice is another thing, which God has set forth
to all as uniform and simple: and he who is ignorant of God must also be
ignorant of justice.
But let us suppose it possible that any one, by natural and innate
goodness, should gain true virtues, such a man as we have heard that Cimon
was at Athens, who both gave alms to the needy, and entertained the poor,
and clothed the naked; yet, when that one thing which is of the greatest
importance is wanting--the acknowledgment of God--then all those good
things are superfluous and empty, so that in pursuing them he has laboured
in vain.(4) For all his justice will resemble a human body which has no
head, in which, although all the limbs are in their proper position, and
figure, and proportion, yet, since that is wanting which is the chief thing
of all, it is destitute both of life and of all sensation. Therefore those
limbs have only the shape of limbs, but admit of no use, as much so as a
head without a body; and he resembles this who is not without the knowledge
of God, but yet lives unjustly. For he has that only which is of the
greatest importance; but he has it to no purpose, since he is destitute of
the virtues, as it were, of limbs.
Therefore, that the body may be alive, and capable of sensation, both
the knowledge of God is necessary, as it were the head, and all the
virtues, as it were the body. Thus there will exist a perfect and living
man; but, however, the whole substance is in the head; and although this
cannot exist in the absence of all, it may exist in the absence of some.
And it will be an imperfect and faulty animal, but yet it will be alive, as
he who knows God and yet sins in some respect. For God pardons sins. And
thus it is possible to live without some of the limbs, but it is by no
means possible to live without a head. This is the reason why the
philosophers, though they may be naturally good, yet have no knowledge and
no intelligence. All their learning and virtue is without a head, because
they are ignorant of God, who is the Head of virtue and knowledge; and he
who is ignorant of Him, though he may see, is blind; though he may hear, is
deaf; though he may speak, is dumb. But when he shall know the Creator and
Parent of all things, then he will both see, and hear, and speak. For he
begins to have a head, in which all the senses are placed, that is, the
eyes, and ears, and tongue. For assuredly he sees who has beheld with the
eyes of his mind the truth in which God is, or God in whom the truth is; he
hears, who imprints on his heart the divine words and life-giving precepts;
he speaks, who, in discussing heavenly things, relates the virtue and
majesty of the surpassing God. Therefore he is undoubtedly impious who does
not acknowledge God; and all his virtues, which he thinks that he has or
possesses, are found in that deadly road which belongs altogether to
darkness. Wherefore there is no reason why any one should congratulate
himself if he has gained these empty virtues, because he is not only
wretched who is destitute of present goods, but he must also be foolish,
since he undertakes the greatest labours in his life without any purpose.
For if the hope of immortality is taken away, which God promises to those
who continue in His religion, for the sake of obtaining which virtue is to
be sought, and whatever evils happen are to be endured, it will assuredly
be the greatest folly to wish to comply with virtues which in vain bring
calamities and labours to man. For if it is virtue to endure and undergo
with fortitude, want, exile, pain, and death, which are feared by others,
what goodness, I pray, has it in itself, that philosophers should say that
it is to be sought for on its own account? Truly they are delighted with
superfluous and useless punishments, when it is permitted them to live in
tranquillity.
For if our souls are mortal, if virtue is about to have no existence
after the dissolution of the body, why do we avoid the goods assigned to
us, as though we were ungrateful or unworthy of enjoying the divine gifts?
For, that we may enjoy these blessings, we must live in wickedness and
impiety, because virtue, that is, justice, is followed by poverty.
Therefore he is not of sound mind, who, without having any greater hope set
before him, prefers labours, and tortures, and miseries, to those goods
which others enjoy in life.(1) But if virtue is to be taken up, as is most
rightly said by these, because it is evident that man is born to it, it
ought to contain some greater hope, which may apply a great and illustrious
solace for the ills and labours which it is the part of virtue to endure.
Nor can virtue, since it is difficult in itself, be esteemed as a good in
any other way than by having its hardship compensated by the greatest good.
We can in no other way equally abstain from these present goods, than if
there are other greater goods on account of which it is worth while to
leave the pursuit of pleasures, and to endure all evils. But these are no
other, as I have shown in the third book,(2) than the goods of everlasting
life. Now who can bestow these except God, who has proposed to us virtue
itself? Therefore the sum and substance of everything is contained in the
acknowledging and worship of God; all the hope and safety of man centres in
this; this is the first step of wisdom, to know who is our true Father, and
to worship Him alone with the piety which is due to Him, to obey Him, to
yield ourselves to His service with the utmost devotedness: let our entire
acting, and care, and attention, be laid out in gaining His favour.(3)
CHAP. X.--OF RELIGION TOWARDS GOD, AND MERCY TOWARDS MEN; AND OF THE
BEGINNING OF THE WORLD.
I have said what is due to God, I will now say what is to be given to
man; although this very thing which you shall give to man is given to God,
for man is the image of God. But, how ever, the first office of justice is
to be united with God, the second with man. But the former is called
religion; the second is named mercy or kindness;(4) which virtue is
peculiar to the just, and to the worshippers of God, because this alone
comprises the principle of common life. For God, who has not given wisdom
to the other animals, has made them more safe from attack in danger by
natural defences. But because He made him naked and defenceless,(5) that He
might rather furnish him with wisdom, He gave him, besides other things,
this feeling of kindness;(6) so that man should protect, love, and cherish
man, and both receive and afford assistance against all dangers. Therefore
kindness is the greatest bond of human society; and he who has broken this
is to be deemed impious, and a parricide. For if we all derive our origin
from one man, whom God created, we are plainly of one blood; and therefore
it must be considered the greatest wickedness to hate a man, even though
guilty. On which account God has enjoined that enmities are never to be
contracted by us, but that they are always to be removed, so that we soothe
those who are our enemies, by reminding them of their relationship.
Likewise, if we are all inspired and animated by one God, what else are we
than brothers? And, indeed, the more closely united, because we are united
in soul rather than in body.(1) Accordingly Lucretius does not err when he
says:(2) "In short, we are all sprung from a heavenly seed; all have that
same father." Therefore they are to be accounted as savage beasts who
injure man; who, in opposition to every law and right of human nature,
plunder, torture, slay, and banish.
On account of this relationship of brotherhood, God teaches us never to
do evil, but always good. And He also prescribes(3) in what this doing good
consists: in affording aid to those who are oppressed and in difficulty,
and in bestowing food on those who are destitute. For God, since He is
kind,(4) wished us to be a social animal. Therefore, in the case of other
men, we ought to think of ourselves. We do not deserve to be set free in
our own dangers, if we do not succour others; we do not deserve assistance,
if we refuse to render it. There are no precepts of philosophers to this
purport, inasmuch as they, being captivated by the appearance of false
virtue, have taken away mercy from man, and while they wish to heal, have
corrupted.(5) And though they generally admit that the mutual participation
of human society is to be retained, they entirely separate themselves from
it by the harshness of their inhuman virtue. This error, therefore, is also
to be refuted, of those who think that nothing is to be bestowed on any
one. They have introduced not one origin only, and cause of building a
city; but some relate that those men who were first born from the earth,
when they passed a wandering life among the woods and plains, and were not
united by any mutual bond of speech or justice, but had leaves and grass
for their beds, and caves and grottos for their dwellings, were a prey to
the beasts and stronger animals. Then, that those who had either escaped,
having been torn, or had seen their neighbours torn, being admonished of
their own danger, had recourse to other men, implored protection, and at
first made their wishes known by nods; then that they tried the beginnings
of conversation, and by attaching names to each object, by degrees
completed the system of speech. But when they saw that numbers themselves
were not safe against the beasts, they began also to build towns, either
that they might make their nightly repose safe, or that they might ward off
the incursions and attacks of beasts, not by fighting, but by interposing
barriers.(6)
O minds unworthy of men, which produced these foolish trifles! O
wretched and pitiable men, who committed to writing and handed down to
memory the record of their own foil),; who, when they saw that the plan of
assembling themselves together, or of mutual intercourse, or of avoiding
danger, or of guarding against evil, or of preparing for themselves
sleeping-places and lairs, was natural even to the dumb animals, thought,
however, that men could not have been admonished and learned, except by
examples, what they ought to fear, what to avoid, and what to do, or that
they would never have assembled together, or have discovered the method of
speech, had not the beasts devoured them! These things appeared to others
senseless, as they really were; and they said that the cause of their
coming together was not the tearing of wild beasts, but rather the very
feeling of humanity itself; and that therefore they collected themselves
together, because the nature of men avoided solitude, and was desirous of
communion and society. The discrepancy between them is not great; since the
causes are different, the fact is the same. Each might have been true,
because there is no direct opposition. But, however, neither is by any
means true, because men were not born from the ground throughout the world,
as though sprung from the teeth of some dragon, as the poets relate; but
one man was formed by God, and from that one man all the earth was filled
with the human race, in the same way as again took place after the deluge,
which they certainly cannot deny.(7) Therefore no assembling together of
this kind took place at the beginning; and that there were never men on the
earth who could not speak except those who were infants,(8) every one who
is possessed of sense will understand. Let us suppose, however, that these
things are true which idle and foolish old men vainly say, that we may
refute them especially by their own feelings and arguments.
If men were collected together on this account, that they might protect
their weakness by mutual help, therefore we must succour man, who needs
help. For, since men entered into and contracted fellowship with men for
the sake of protection, either to violate or not to preserve that compact
which was entered into among men from the commencement of their origin, is
to be considered as the greatest impiety. For he who withdraws himself from
affording assistance must also of necessity withdraw himself from receiving
it; for he who refuses his aid to another thinks that he stands in need of
the aid of none. But he who withdraws and separates himself from the
body(1) at large, must live not after the custom of men, but after the
manner of wild beasts. But if this cannot be done, the bond of human
society is by all means to be retained, because man can in no way live
without man. But the preservation(2) of society is a mutual sharing of kind
offices; that is, the affording help, that we may be able to receive it.
But if, as those others assert, the assembling together of men has been
caused on account of humanity itself, man ought undoubtedly to recognise
man. But if those ignorant and as yet uncivilized men did this, and that,
when the practice of speaking was not yet established, what must we think
ought to be done by men who are polished, and connected together by
interchange of conversation and all business, who, being accustomed to the
society of men, cannot endure solitude?
CHAP. XI.--OF THE PERSONS UPON WHOM A BENEFIT IS TO BE CONFERRED.
Therefore humanity is to be preserved, if we wish rightly to be called
men. But what else is this preservation of humanity than the loving a man
because he is a man, and the same as ourselves? Therefore discord and
dissension are not in accordance with the nature of man; and that
expression of Cicero is true, which says(3) that man, while he is obedient
to nature, cannot injure man. Therefore, if it is contrary to nature to
injure a man, it must be in accordance with nature to benefit a man; and he
who does not do this deprives himself of the title of a man, because it is
the duty of humanity to succour the necessity and peril of a man. I ask,
therefore, of those who do not think it the part of a wise man to be
prevailed upon and to pity, If a man were seized by some beast, and were to
implore the aid of an armed man, whether they think that he ought to be
succoured or not? They are not so shameless as to deny that that ought to
be done which humanity demands and requires. Also, if any one were
surrounded by fire, crushed by the downfall of a building, plunged in the
sea, or carried away by a river, would they think it the duty of a man not
to assist him? They themselves are not men if they think so; for no one can
fail to be liable to dangers of this kind. Yes, truly, they will say that
it is the part of a human being, and of a brave man too, to preserve one
who was on the point of perishing. If, therefore, in casualties of this
nature which imperil the life of man, they allow that it is the part of
humanity to give succour, what reason is there why they should think that
succour is to be withheld if a man should suffer from hunger, thirst, or
cold? But though these things are naturally on an equality with those
accidental circumstances, and need one and the same humanity, yet they make
a distinction between these things, because they measure all things not by
the truth itself, but by present utility. For they hope that those whom
they rescue from peril will make a return of the favour to them. But
because they do not hope for this in the case of the needy, they think that
whatever they bestow on men of this kind is thrown away. Hence that
sentiment of Plautus is detestable:(4)--
"He deserves ill who gives food to a beggar;
For that which he gives is thrown away, and
It lengthens out the life of the other to his misery."
But perhaps the poet spoke for the actor.(5)
What does Marcus Tullius say in his books respecting Offices? Does he
not also advise that bounty should not be employed at all? For thus he
speaks:(6) "Bounty, which proceeds from our estate, drains the very source
of our liberality; and thus liberality is destroyed by liberality: for the
more numerous they are towards whom you practise it, the less you will be
able to practise it towards many." And he also says shortly afterwards:
"But what is more foolish than so to act that you may not be able to
continue to do that which you do willingly?" This professor of wisdom
plainly keeps men back from acts of kindness, and advises them carefully to
guard their property, and to preserve their money-chest in safety, rather
than to follow justice. And when he perceived that this was inhuman and
wicked, soon afterwards, in another chapter, as though moved by repentance,
he thus spoke: "Sometimes, however, we must exercise bounty in giving: nor
is this kind of liberality altogether to be rejected; and we must give from
our property to suitable(7) persons when they are in need of assistance."
What is the meaning of "suitable?" Assuredly those who are able to restore
and give back the favour.(1) If Cicero were now alive, I should certainly
exclaim: Here, here, Marcus Tullius, you have erred from true justice; and
you have taken it away by one word, since you measured the offices of piety
and humanity by utility. For we must not bestow our bounty on suitable
objects, but as much as possible on unsuitable objects. For that will be
done with justice, piety, and humanity, which you shall do without the hope
of any return!
This is that true and genuine justice, of which you say that you have
no real and life-like figure.(2) You yourself exclaim in many places that
virtue is not mercenary; and you confess in the books of your Laws(3) that
liberality is gratuitous, in these words: "Nor is it doubtful that he who
is called liberal and generous is influenced by a sense of duty, and not by
advantage." Why therefore do you bestow your bounty on suitable persons,
unless it be that you may afterwards receive a reward? With you, therefore,
as the author and teacher of justice, whosoever shall not be a suitable
person will be worn out with nakedness, thirst, and hunger; nor will men
who are rich and abundantly supplied, even to luxuriousness, assist his
last extremity. If virtue does not exact a reward; if, as you say, it is to
be sought on its own account, then estimate justice, which is the mother
and chief of the virtues, at its own price, and not according to your
advantage: give especially to him from whom you hope for nothing in return.
Why do you select persons? Why do you look at bodily forms? He is to be
esteemed by you as a man, whoever it is that implores you, because he
considers you a man. Cast away those outlines and sketches of justice, and
hold fast justice itself, true and fashioned to the life. Be bountiful to
the blind, the feeble, the lame, the destitute, who must die: unless you
bestow your bounty upon them. They are useless to men, but they are
serviceable to God, who retains them in life, who endues them with breath,
who vouchsafes to them the light. Cherish as far as in you lies, and
support with kindness, the lives of men, that they may not be extinguished.
He who is able to succour one on the point of perishing, if he fails to do
so, kills him. But they, because they neither retain their nature, nor know
what reward there is in this, while they fear to lose, do lose, and fall
into that which they chiefly guard against; so that whatever they bestow is
either lost altogether, or profits only for the briefest time. For they who
refuse a small gift to the wretched, who wish to preserve humanity without
any loss to themselves, squander their property, so that they either
acquire for themselves frail and perishable things, or they certainly gain
nothing by their own great loss.
For what must be said of those who, induced by the vanity of popular
favour,(4) expend on the exhibition of shows wealth that would be
sufficient even for great cities? Must we not say that they are senseless
and mad who bestow upon the people that which is both lost to themselves,
and which none of those on whom it is bestowed receives? Therefore, as all
pleasure is short and perishable, and especially that of the eyes and ears,
men either forget and are ungrateful for the expenses incurred by another,
or they are even offended if the caprice of the people is not satisfied: so
that most foolish men ,have even acquired evil for themselves by evil; or
if they have thus succeeded in pleasing, they gain nothing more than empty
favour and the talk(5) of a few days. Thus every day the estates of most
trifling men are expended on superfluous matters. Do they then act more
wisely who exhibit to their fellow-citizens more useful and lasting gifts?
They, for instance, who by the building of public works seek a lasting
memory for their name? Not even do they act rightly in burying their
property in the earth; because the remembrance of them neither bestows
anything upon the dead, nor are their works eternal, inasmuch as they are
either thrown down and destroyed by a single earthquake, or are consumed by
an accidental fire, or they are overthrough by some attack of an enemy, or
at any rate they decay and fall to pieces by mere length of time. For there
is nothing, as the orator says,(6) made by the work of man's hand which
length of time does not weaken and destroy. But this justice of which we
speak, and mercy, flourish more every day. They therefore act better who
bestow their bounty on their tribesmen and clients, for they bestow
something on men. and profit them; but that is not true and just bounty,
for there is no conferring of a benefit where there is no necessity.
Therefore, whatever is given to those who are not in need, for the sake of
popularity, is thrown away; or it is repaid with interest, and thus it will
not be the conferring of a benefit. And although it is pleasing to those to
whom it is given, still it is not just, because if it is not done, no evil
follows. Therefore the only sure and true office of liberality is to
support the needy and unserviceable.
CHAP. XII.--OF THE KINDS OF BENEFICENCE, AND WORKS OF MERCY.
This is that perfect justice which protects human society, concerning
which philosophers speak. This is the chief and truest advantage of riches;
not to use wealth for the particular, pleasure of an individual, but for
the welfare of many; not for one's own immediate enjoyment, but for
justice, which alone does not perish. We must therefore by all means keep
in mind, that the hope of receiving in return must be altogether absent
from the duty of showing mercy: for the reward of this work and duty must
be expected from God alone; for if you should expect it from man, then that
will not be kindness, but the lending of a benefit at interest;(1) nor can
he seem to have deserved well who affords that which he does, not to
another, but to himself. And yet the matter comes to this, that whatever a
man has bestowed upon another, hoping for no advantage from him, he really
bestows upon himself, for he will receive a reward from God. God has also
enjoined, that if at any time we make a feast, we should invite to the
entertainment those who cannot invite us in return, and thus make us a
recompense, so that no action of our life should be without the exercise of
mercy. Nor, however, let any one think that he is debarred from intercourse
with his friends or kindness with his neighbours. But God has made known to
us what is our true and just work: we ought thus to live with our
neighbours, provided that we know that the one manner of living relates to
man, the other to God.(2)
Therefore hospitality is a principal virtue, as the philosophers also
say; but they turn it aside from true justice, and forcibly apply(3) it to
advantage. Cicero says:(4) "Hospitality was rightly praised by
Theophrastus. For (as it appears to me) it is highly becoming that the
houses of illustrious men should be open to illustrious guests." He has
here committed the same error which he then did, when he said that we must
bestow our bounty on "suitable" persons. For the house of a just and wise
man ought not to be open to the illustrious, but to the lowly and abject.
For those illustrious and powerful men cannot be in want of anything, since
they are sufficiently protected and honoured by their own opulence. But
nothing is to be done by a just man except that which is a benefit. But if
the benefit is returned, it is destroyed and brought to an end; for we
cannot possess in its completeness that for which a price has been paid to
us. Therefore the principle of justice is employed about those benefits
which have remained safe and uncorrupted; but they cannot thus remain by
any other means than if they are be stowed upon those men who can in no way
profit us. But in receiving illustrious men, he looked to nothing else but
utility; nor did the ingenious man conceal what advantage he hoped from it.
For he says that he who does that will become powerful among foreigners by
the favour of the leading men, whom he will have bound to himself by the
right of hospitality and friendship. O by how many arguments might the
inconsistency of Cicero be proved, if this were my object! Nor would he be
convicted so much by my words as by his own. For he also says, that the
more any one refers all his actions to his own advantage, the less he is a
good man. He also says, that it is not the part of a simple and open man to
ingratiate himself in the favour of others,(5) to pretend and allege
anything, to appear to be doing one thing when he is doing another, to
feign that he is bestowing upon another that which he is bestowing upon
himself; but that this is rather the part of one who is designing(6) and
crafty, deceitful and treacherous. But how could he maintain that that
ambitious hospitality was not evil intention?(7) "Do you run round through
all the gates, that you may invite to your house the chief men of the
nations and cities as they arrive, that by their means you may acquire
influence with their citizens; and wish yourself to be called just, and
kind, and hospitable, though you are studying to promote your own
advantage?" But did he not say this rather incautiously? For what is less
suitable for Cicero? But through his ignorance of true justice he knowingly
and with foresight fell into this snare. And that he might be pardoned for
this, he testified that he does not give precepts with reference to true
justice, which he does not hold, but with reference to a sketch and outline
of justice. Therefore we must pardon this teacher who uses sketches and
outlines,(8) nor must we require the truth from him who admits that he is
ignorant of it.
The ransoming of captives is a great and noble exercise of justice, of
which the same Tullius also approved.(9) "And this liberality," he says,
"is serviceable even to the state, that captives should be ransomed from
slavery, and that those of slender resources should be provided for. And I
greatly prefer this practice of liberality to lavish expenditure on shows.
This is the part of great and eminent men." Therefore it is the appropriate
work of the just to support the poor and to ransom captives, since among
the unjust if any do these things they are called great and eminent. For it
is deserving of the greatest praise for those to confer benefit from whom
no one expected such conduct. For he who does good to a relative, or
neighbour, or friend, either deserves no praise, or certainly no great
praise, because he is bound to do it, and he would be impious and
detestable if he did not do that which both nature itself and relationship
require; and if he does it, he does it not so much for the sake of
obtaining glory as of avoiding censure. But he who does it to a stranger
and an unknown person, he truly is worthy of praise, because he was led to
do it by kindness only. Justice therefore exists there, where there is no
obligation of necessity for conferring a benefit. He ought not therefore to
have preferred this duty of generosity to expenditure on shows; for this is
the part of one making a comparison, and of two goods choosing that which
is the better. For that profusion of men throwing away their property into
the sea is vain and trifling, and very far removed from all justice.
Therefore they are not even to be called girls,(1) in which no one receives
but he who does not deserve to receive.
Nor is it less a great work of justice to protect and defend orphans
and widows who are destitute and stand in need of assistance; and therefore
that divine law prescribes this to all, since all good judges deem that it
belongs to their office to favour them with natural kindness, and to strive
to benefit them. But these works are especially ours, since we have
received the law, and the words of God Himself giving us instructions. For
they perceive that it is naturally just to protect those who need
protection, but they do not perceive why it is so. For God, to whom
everlasting mercy belongs, on this account commands that widows and orphans
should be defended and cherished, that no one through regard and pity for
his pledges(2) should be prevented from undergoing death in behalf of
justice and faith, but should encounter it with promptitude and boldness,
since he knows that he leaves his beloved ones to the care of God, and that
they will never want protection. Also to undertake the care and support of
the sick, who need some one to assist them, is the part of the greatest
kindness, and of great beneficence;(3) and he who shall do this will both
gain a living sacrifice to God, and that which he has given to another for
a time he will himself receive from God for eternity. The last and greatest
office of piety is the burying of strangers and the poor; which subject
those teachers of virtue and justice have not touched upon at all. For they
were unable to see this, who measured all their duties by utility. For in
the other things which have been mentioned above, although they did not
keep the true path, yet, since they discovered some advantage in these
things, retained as it were by a kind of inkling(4) of the truth, they
wandered to a less distance; but they abandoned this because they were
unable to see any advantage in it.
Moreover, there have not been wanting those who esteemed burial as
superfluous, and said that it was no evil to lie unburied and neglected;
but their impious wisdom is rejected alike by the whole human race, and by
the divine expressions which command the performance of the rite.(5) But
they do not venture to say that it ought not to be done, but that, if it
happens to be omitted, no inconvenience is the result. Therefore in that
matter they discharge the office, not so much of those who give precepts,
as of those who suggest consolation, that if this shall by chance have
occurred to a wise man, he should not deem himself wretched on this
account. But we do not speak of that which ought to be endured by a wise
man, but of that which he himself ought to do. Therefore we do not now
inquire whether the whole system of burial is serviceable or not; but this,
even though it be useless, as they imagine, must nevertheless be practised,
even on this account only, that it appears among men to be done rightly and
kindly. For it is the feeling which is inquired into, and it is the purpose
which is weighed. Therefore we will not suffer the image and workmanship of
God to lie exposed as a prey to beasts and birds, but we will restore it to
the earth, from which it had its origin; and although it be in the case of
an unknown man, we will fulfil the office of relatives, into whose place,
since they are wanting, let kindness succeed; and wherever there shall be
need of man, there we will think that our duty is required.(6) But in what
does the nature of justice more consist than in our affording to strangers
through kindness, that which we render to our own relatives through
affection? And this kindness is much more sure and just when it is now
afforded, not to the man who is insensible, but to God alone, to whom a
just work is a most acceptable sacrifice. Some one will perhaps say: If I
shall do all these things, I shall have no possessions. For what if a great
number of men shall be in want, shall suffer cold, shall be taken captive,
shall die, since one who acts thus must deprive himself of his property
even in a single day, shall I throw away the estate acquired by my own
labour or by that of my ancestors, so that after this I myself must live by
the pity of others?
Why do you so pusillanimously fear poverty, which even your
philosophers praise, and bear witness that nothing is safer and nothing
more calm than this? That which you fear is a haven against anxieties. Do
you not know to how many dangers, to how many accidents, you are exposed
with these evil resources? These will treat you well if they shall pass
without your bloodshed. But you walk about laden with booty, and you bear
spoils which may excite the minds even of your own relatives. Why, then, do
you hesitate to lay that out well which perhaps a single robbery will
snatch away from you, or a proscription suddenly arising, or the plundering
of an enemy? Why do you fear to make a frail and perishable good
everlasting, or to entrust your treasures to God as their preserver, in
which case you need not fear thief and robber, nor rust, nor tyrant? He who
is rich towards God can never be poor.(1) If you esteem justice so highly,
lay aside the burthens which press you, and follow it; free yourself from
fetters and chains, that you may run to God without any impedient. It is
the part of a great and lofty mind to despise and trample upon mortal
affairs. But if you do not comprehend this virtue, that you may bestow your
riches upon the altar(2) of God, in order that you may provide for yourself
firmer possessions than these frail ones, I wiIl free you from fear. All
these precepts are not given to you alone, but to all the people who are
united in mind, and hold together as one man. If you are not adequate to
the performance of great works alone, cultivate justice with all your
power, in such a manner, however, that you may excel others in work as much
as you excel them in riches. And do not think that you are advised to
lessen or exhaust your property; but that which you would have expended on
superfluities, turn to better uses. Devote to the ransoming of captives
that from which you purchase beasts; maintain the poor with that from which
you feed wild beasts; bury the innocent dead with that from which you
provide men for the sword.(3) What does it profit to enrich men of
abandoned wickedness, who fight with beasts,(4) and to equip them for
crimes? Transfer things about to be miserably thrown away to the great
sacrifice, that in return for these true gifts you may have an everlasting
gift from God. Mercy has a great reward; for God promises it, that He will
remit all sins. If you shall hear, He says, the prayers of your suppliant,
I also will hear yours; if you shall pity those in distress, I also will
pity you in your distress. But if you shall not regard nor assist them, I
also will bear a mind like your own against you, and I will judge you by
your own laws.(5)
CHAP. XIII.--OF REPENTANCE, OF MERCY, AND THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS.
As often, therefore, as you are asked for aid, believe that you are
tried by God, that it may be seen whether you are worthy of being heard.
Examine your own conscience, and, as far as you are able, heal your wounds.
Nor, however, because offences are removed by bounty, think that a licence
is given you for sinning. For they are done away with, if you are bountiful
to God because you have sinned; for if you sin through reliance on your
bounty, they are not done away with. For God especially desires that men
shall be cleansed from their sins, and therefore He commands them to
repent. But to repent is nothing else than to profess and to affirm that
one will sin no more. Therefore they are pardoned who unawares and
incautiously glide into sin; he who sins wilfully has no pardon. Nor,
however, if any one shall have been purified from all stain of sin, let him
think that he may abstain from the work of bounty because he has no faults
to blot out. Nay, in truth, he is then more bound to exercise justice when
he is become just, so that that which he had before done for the healing of
his wounds he may afterwards do for the praise and glory of virtue. To this
is added, that no ODe can be without fault as long as he is burthened with
a covering of flesh, the infirmity of which is subject to the dominion of
sin in a threefold manner--in deeds, in words, and thoughts.
By these steps justice advances to the greatest height. The first step
of virtue is to abstain from evil works; the second, to abstain also from
evil worsts; the third, to abstain even from the thoughts of evil things.
He who ascends the first step is sufficiently just; he who ascends the
second is now of perfect virtue, since he offends neither in deeds nor in
conversation;(6) he who ascends the third appears truly to have attained
the likeness of God. For it is almost beyond the measure of man not even to
admit to the thought(7) that which is either bad in action or improper in
speech. Therefore even just men, who can refrain from every unjust work,
are sometimes, however, overcome by frailty itself, so that they either
speak evil in anger, or, at the sight of delightful things, they desire
them with silent thought. But if the condition of mortality does not suffer
a man to be pure from every stain, the faults of the flesh ought therefore
to be done away with by continual bounty. For it is the single work of a
man who is wise, and just, and worthy of life, to lay out his riches on
justice alone; for assuredly he who is without this, although he should
surpass Croesus or Crassus in riches, is to be esteemed as poor, as naked,
as a beggar. Therefore we must use our efforts that we may be clothed with
the garment of justice and piety, of which no one may deprive us, which may
furnish us with an everlasting ornament. For if the worshippers of gods
adore senseless images, and bestow upon them whatever they have which is
precious, though they can neither make use of them nor give thanks because
they have received them, how much more just and true is it to reverence the
living images of God, that you may gain the favour of the living God! For
as these make use of what they have received, and give thanks, so God, in
whose sight you shall have done that which is good, will both approve of it
and reward your piety.
CHAP. XIV.--OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND THE OPINION OF THE STOICS RESPECTING
THEM; AND OF VIRTUE, THE VICES, AND MERCY,
If, therefore, mercy is a distinguished and excellent gift in man, and
that is judged to be very good by the consent both of the good and the
evil, it appears that philosophers were far distant from the good of man,
who neither enjoined nor practised anything of this kind, but always
esteemed as a vice that virtue which almost holds the first place in man.
It pleases me here to bring forward one subject of philosophy, that we may
more fully refute the errors of those who call mercy, desire, and fear,
diseases of the soul. They indeed attempt to distinguish virtues from
vices, which is truly a very easy matter. For who cannot distinguish a
liberal man from one who is prodigal (as they do), or a frugal man from one
who is mean, or a calm man from one who is slothful, or a cautious man from
one who is timid? Because these things which are good have their limits,
and if they shall exceed these limits, fall into vices; so that constancy,
unless it is undertaken for the truth, becomes shamelessness. In like
manner, bravery, if it shall undergo certain danger, without the compulsion
of any necessity, or not for an honourable cause, is changed into
rashness. Freedom of speech also, if it attack; others rather than oppose
those who attack it, is obstinacy. Severity also, unless it restrain
itself within the befitting punishments of the guilty, becomes savage
cruelty.
Therefore they say, that those who appear evil do not sin of their own
accord, or choose evils by preference, but that, erring(1) through the
appearance of good, they fall into evils, while they are ignorant of the
distinction between good things and evil. These things are not indeed
false, but they are all referred to the body. For to be frugal, or
constant, or cautious, or calm, or grave, or severe, are virtues indeed,
but virtues which relate to this short(2) life. But we who despise this
life have other virtues set before us, respecting which philosophers could
not by any means even conjecture. Therefore they regarded certain virtues
as vices, and certain vices as virtues. For the Stoics take away from man
all the affections, by the impulse of which the soul is moved--desire, joy,
fear, sorrow: the two former of which arise from good things, either future
or present; the latter from evil things. In the same manner, they call
these four (as I said) diseases, not so much inserted in us by nature as
undertaken through a perverted opinion; and therefore they think that these
can be eradicated, if the false notion of good and evil things is taken
away. For if the wise man thinks nothing good or evil, he will neither be
inflamed with desire, nor be transported with joy, nor be alarmed with
fear, nor suffer his spirits to droop(3) through sadness. We shall
presently see whether they effect that which they wish, or what it is which
they do effect: in the meantime their purpose is arrogant and almost mad,
who think that they apply a remedy, and that they are able to strive in
opposition to the force and system of nature.
CHAP. XV.--OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND THE OPINION OF THE PERIPATETICS
RESPECTING THEM.
For, that these things are natural and not voluntary, the nature of all
living beings shows, which is moved by all these affections. There fore the
Peripatetics act better, who say that all these cannot be taken from us,
because they were born with us; and they endeavour to show how
providently and how necessarily God, or nature (for so they term it),
armed us with these affections; which, however, because they generally
become vicious if they are in excess, can be advantageously regulated by
man,--a limit being applied, so that there may be left to man as much as is
sufficient for nature. Not an unwise disputation, if, as I said, all things
were not referred to this life. The Stoics therefore are mad who do not
regulate but cut them out, and wish by some means or other to deprive man
of powers implanted in him by nature. And this is equivalent to a desire of
taking away timidity from stags, or poison from serpents, or rage from wild
beasts, or gentleness from cattle. For those qualities which have been
given separately to dumb animals, are altogether given to man at the same
time. But if, as physicians affirm, the affection of joy has its seat in
the spleen,(1) that of anger in the gall, of desire in the liver, of fear
in the heart, it is easier to kill the animal itself than to tear anything
from the body; for this is to wish to change the nature of the living
creature. But the skilful men do not understand that when they take away
vices from man, they also take away virtue, for which alone they are making
a place. For if it is virtue in the midst of the impetuosity of anger to
restrain and check oneself, which they cannot deny, then he who is without
anger is also without virtue. If it is virtue to control the lust of the
body, he must be free from virtue who has no lust which he may regulate. If
it is virtue to curb the desire from coveting that which belongs to
another, he certainly can have no virtue who is without that, to the
restraining of which the exercise of virtue is applied. Where, therefore,
there are no vices, there is no place even for virtue, as there is no place
for victory where there is no adversary. And so it comes to pass that there
can be no good in this life without evil. An affection therefore is a kind
of natural fruitfulness(2) of the powers of the mind. For as a field which
is naturally fruitful produces an abundant crop of briars,(3) so the mind
which is uncultivated is overgrown with vices flourishing of their own
accord, as with thorns. But when the true cultivator has applied himself,
immediately vices give way, and the fruits of virtues spring up.
Therefore God, when He first made man, with wonderful foresight first
implanted in him these emotions of the mind, that he might be capable of
receiving virtue, as the earth is of cultivation; and He placed the
subject-matter of vices in the affections, and that of virtue in vices. For
assuredly virtue will have no existence, or not be in exercise, if those
things are wanting by which its power is either shown or exists. Now let us
see what they have effected who altogether removes vices. With regard to
those four affections(4) which they imagine to arise from the opinion of
things good and evil, by the eradication of which they think that the mind
of the wise man is to be healed, since they understand that they are
implanted by nature, and that without these nothing can be put in motion,
nothing be done, they put certain other things into their place and room:
for desire they substitute inclination, as though it were not much better
to desire a good than to feel inclination for it; they in like manner
substitute for joy gladness, and for fear caution. But in the case of the
fourth they are at a loss for a method of exchanging the name. Therefore
they have altogether taken away grief, that is, sadness and pain of mind,
which cannot possibly be done. For who can fail to be grieved if pestilence
has desolated his country, or an enemy overthrown it, or a tyrant crushed
its liberty? Can any one fail to be grieved if he has beheld the overthrow
of liberty,(5) and the banishment or most cruel slaughter of neighbours,
friends, or good men?--unless the mind of any one should be so struck with
astonishment that all sensibility should be taken from him. Wherefore they
ought either to have taken away the whole, or this defective(6) and weak
discussion ought to have been completed; that is, something ought to have
been substituted in the place of grief, since, the former ones having been
so arranged, this naturally followed.
For as we rejoice in good things that are present, so we are vexed and
grieved with evil things. If, therefore, they gave another name to joy
because they thought it vicious, so it was befitting that another name
should be given to grief because they thought it also vicious. From which
it appears that it was no, the object itself which was wanting to them, but
a word, through want of which they wished, contrary to what nature allowed,
to take away that affection which is the greatest. For I could have refuted
those changes of names at greater length, and have shown that many names
are attached to the same objects, for the sake of embellishing the style
and increasing its copiousness, or at any rate that they do not greatly
differ from one another. For both desire takes its beginning from the
inclination, and caution arises from fear, and joy is nothing else than
the expression of gladness. But let us suppose that they are different, as
they themselves will have it. Accordingly they will say that desire is
continued and perpetual inclination, but that joy is gladness bearing
itself immoderately; and that fear is caution in excess, and passing the
limits of moderation. Thus it comes to pass, that they do not take away
those things which they think ought to be taken away, but regulate them,
since the names only are changed, the things themselves remain. They
therefore return unawares to that point at which the Peripatetics arrive by
argument, that vices, since they cannot be taken away, are to be regulated
with moderation. Therefore they err, be cause they do not succeed in
effecting that which they aim at, and by a circuitous route, which is long
and rough, they return to the same path.
CHAP. XVI.--OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND THE REFUTATION OF THE OPINION OF THE
PERIPATETICS CONCERNING THEM; WHAT IS THE PROPER USE OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND
WHAT IS A BAD USE OF THEM.
But I think that the Peripatetics did not even approach the truth, who
allow that they are vices, but regulate them with moderation. For we must
be free even from moderate vices; yea, rather, it ought to have been at
first effected that there should be no vices. For nothing can be born
vicious;(1) but if we make a bad use of the affections they become vices,
if we use them well they become virtues. Then it must be shown that the
causes of the affections, and not the affections themselves, must be
moderated. We must not, they say, rejoice with excessive joy, but
moderately and temperately. This is as though they should say that we must
not run swiftly, but walk quietly. But it is possible that he who walks
may err, and that he who runs may keep the right path. What if I show that
there is a case in which it is vicious not only to rejoice moderately,
but even in the smallest degree; and that there is another case, on the
contrary, in which even to exult with transports of joy is by no means
faulty? What then, I pray, will this mediocrity profit us? I ask whether
they think that a wise man ought to rejoice if he sees any evil happening
to his enemy; or whether he ought to curb his joy, if by the conquest of
enemies, or the overthrow of a tyrant, liberty and safety have been
acquired by his countrymen.(2)
No one doubts but that in the former case to rejoice a little, and in
the latter to rejoice too little, is a very great crime. We may say the
same respecting the other affections. But, as I have said, the object of
wisdom does not consist in the regulation of these, but of their causes,
since they are acted upon from without; nor was it befitting that these
themselves should be restrained; since they may exist in a small degree
with the greatest criminality, and in the greatest degree without any
criminality. But they ought to have been assigned to fixed times, and
circumstances, and places, that they may not be vices, when it is permitted
us to make a right use of them. For as to walk in the right course is good,
but to wander from it is evil, so to be moved by the affections to that
which is right is good, but to that which is corrupt is evil. For sensual
desire, if it does not wander from its lawful object, although it be
ardent, yet is without fault. But if it desires an unlawful object,
although it be moderate, yet it is a great vice. Therefore it is not a
disease to be angry, nor to desire, nor to be excited by lust; but to be
passionate, to be covetous or licentious, is a disease. For he who is
passionate is angry even with him with whom he ought not to be angry or at
times when he ought not. He who is covetous desires even that which is
unnecessary. He who is licentious pursues even that which is forbidden by
the laws. The whole matter ought to have turned on this, that since the
impetuosity of these things cannot be restrained, nor is it right that it
should be, because it is necessarily implanted for maintaining the duties
of life, it might rather be directed into the right way, where it may be
possible even to run without stumbling and danger.
CHAP. XVII.--OF THE AFFECTIONS AND THEIR USE; OF PATIENCE, AND THE CHIEF
GOOD OF CHRISTIANS.
But I have been carried too far in my desire of refuting them; since it
is my purpose to show that those things which the philosophers thought to
be vices, are so far from being vices, that they are even great virtues. Of
others, I will take, for the sake of instruction, those which I think to be
most closely related to the subject. They regard dread or fear as a very
great vice, and think that it is a very great weakness of mind; the
opposite to which is bravery: and if this exists in a man, they say that
there is no place for fear. Does any one then believe that it can possibly
happen that this same fear is the highest fortitude? By no means. For
nature does not appear to admit that anything should fall back to its
contrary. But yet I, not by any skilful conclusion, as Socrates does in the
writings of Plato, who compels those against whom he disputes to admit
those things which they had denied, but in a simple manner, will show that
the greatest fear is the greatest virtue. No one doubts but that it is the
part of a timid and feeble mind either to fear pain, or want, or exile, or
imprisonment, or death; and if any one does not dread all these, he is
judged a man of the greatest fortitude. But he who fears God is free from
the fear of all these things. In proof of which, there is no need of
arguments: for the punishments inflicted on the worshippers of God have
been witnessed at all times, and are still witnessed through the world, in
the tormenting of whom new and unusual tortures have been devised. For the
mind shrinks from the recollection of various kinds of death, when the
butchery of savage monsters has raged even beyond death itself. But a happy
and unconquered patience endured these execrable lacerations of their
bodies without a groan. This virtue afforded the greatest astonishment to
all people and provinces, and to the torturers themselves, when cruelty was
overcome by patience. But this virtue was caused by nothing else than the
fear of God. Therefore (as I said) fear is not to be uprooted, as the
Stoics maintain, nor to be restrained, as the Peripatetics wish, but to be
directed into the right way; and apprehensions are to be taken away, but so
that this one only may be left: for since this is the only lawful and true
one, it alone effects that all other things may not be feared. Desire also
is reckoned among vices; but if it desires those things which are of the
earth, it is a vice; on the other hand, if it desires heavenly things, it
is a virtue. For he who desires to obtain justice, God, perpetual life,
everlasting light, and all those things which God promises to man, will
despise these riches, and honours, and commands, and kingdoms themselves.
The Stoic will perhaps say that inclination is necessary for the
attainment of these things, and not desire; but, in truth, the inclination
is not sufficient. For many have the inclination; but when pain has
approached the vitals, inclination gives way, but desire perseveres: and if
it effects that all things which are sought by others are objects of
contempt to him, it is the greatest virtue, since it is the mother of self-
restraint. And therefore we ought rather to effect this, that we may
rightly direct the affections, a corrupt use of which is vice. For these
excitements of the mind resemble a harnessed chariot, in the right
management of which the chief duty of the driver is to know the way; and if
he shall keep to this, with whatever swiftness he may go, he will not
strike against an obstacle. But if he shall wander from the course,
although he may go calmly and gently, he will either be shaken over rough
places, or will glide over precipices, or at any rate will be carried where
he does not need to go. So that chariot of life which is led by the
affections as though by swift horses, if it keeps the right way, will
discharge its duty. Dread, therefore, and desire, if they are cast down to
the earth, will become vices, but they will be virtues if they are referred
to divine things. On the other hand, they esteem parsimony as a virtue;
which, if it is eagerness for possessing, cannot be a virtue, because it is
altogether employed in the increase or preservation of earthly goods. But
we do not refer the chief good to the body, but we measure every duty by
the preservation of the soul only. But if, as I have before taught, we must
by no means spare our property that we may preserve kindness and justice,
it is not a virtue to be frugal; which name beguiles and deceives under the
appearance of virtue. For frugality is, it is true, the abstaining from
pleasures; but in this respect it is a vice, because it arises from the
love of possessing, whereas we ought both to abstain from pleasures, and by
no means to withhold money. For to use money sparingly, that is,
moderately, is a kind of weakness of mind, either of one fearing lest he
should be in want, or of one despairing of being able to recover it, or of
one incapable of the contempt of earthly things. But, on the other hand,
they call him who is not sparing of his property prodigal. For thus they
distinguish between the liberal man and the prodigal: that he is liberal
who bestows on deserving objects, and on proper occasions, and in
sufficient quantities; but that he is prodigal who lavishes on undeserving
objects, and when there is no need, and without any regard to his property.
What then? shall we call him prodigal who through pity gives food to
the needy? But it makes a great difference, whether on account of lust you
bestow your money on harlots, or on account of benevolence on the wretched;
whether profligates, gamesters, and pimps squander your money, or you
bestow it on piety and God; whether you expend it upon your own
appetite,(1) or lay it up in the treasury of justice. As, therefore, it is
a vice to lay it out badly, so it is a virtue to lay it out well. If it is
a virtue not to be sparing of riches, which can be replaced, that you may
support the life of man, which cannot be replaced; then parsimony is a
vice. Therefore I can call them by no other name than mad, who deprive man,
a mild and sociable animal, of his name; who, having uprooted the
affections, in which humanity altogether consists, wish to bring him to an
immoveable insensibility of mind, while they desire to free the soul from
perturbations, and, as they themselves say, to render it calm and tranquil;
which is not only impossible, because its force and nature consist in
motion, but it ought not even to be so. For as water which is always still
and motionless is unwholesome and more muddy, so the soul which is unmoved
and torpid is useless even to itself: nor will it be able to maintain life
itself; for it will neither do nor think anything, since thought itself is
nothing less than agitation of the mind. In fine, they who assert this
immoveableness of the soul wish to deprive the soul of life; for life is
full of activity, but death is quiet. They also rightly esteem some things
as virtues, but they do not maintain their due proportion.(2)
Constancy is a virtue; not that we resist those who injure us, for we
must yield to these; and why this ought to be done I will show presently:
but that when men command us to act in opposition to the law of God, and
in opposition to justice, we should be deterred by no threats or
punishments from preferring the command of God to the command of man.
Likewise it is a virtue to despise death; not that we seek it, and of our
own accord inflict it upon ourselves, as many and distinguished
philosophers have often done, which is a wicked and impious thing; but that
when compelled to desert God, and to betray our faith, we should prefer to
undergo death, and should defend our liberty against the foolish and
senseless violence of those who cannot govern themselves, and with
fortitude of spirit we should challenge all the threats and terrors of the
world. Thus with lofty and invincible mind we trample upon those things
which others fear--pain and death. This is virtue; this is true constancy--
to be maintained and preserved in this one thing alone, that no terror and
no violence may be able to turn us away from God. Therefore that is a true
sentiment of Cicero: "No one," he says, "can be just who fears death, or
pain, or exile, or want." Also of Seneca, who says, in his books of moral
philosophy: "This is that virtuous man, not distinguished by a diadem or
purple, or the attendance of lictors, but in no respect inferior, who,
when he sees death at hand, is not so disturbed as though he saw a fresh
object; who, whether torments are to be suffered by his whole body, or a
flame is to be seized by his mouth, or his hands are to be stretched out on
the cross,(2) does not inquire what he suffers, but how well." But he who
worships God suffers these things without fear. Therefore he is just. By
these things it is effected, that he cannot know or maintain at all either
the virtues or the exact limits of the virtues, whoever is estranged from
the religion of the one God.
CHAP. XVIII.--OF SOME COMMANDS OF GOD, AND OF PATIENCE.
But let us leave the philosophers, who either know nothing at all, and
hold forth this very ignorance as the greatest knowledge; or who, inasmuch
as they think they know that of which they are ignorant, are absurdly and
arrogantly foolish. Let us therefore (that we may return to our purpose),
to whom alone the truth has been revealed by God, and wisdom has been sent
from heaven, practise those things which God who enlightens us commands:
let us sustain and endure the labours of life, by mutual assistance towards
each other; nor, however, if we shall have done any good work, let us aim
at glory from it. For God admonishes us that the doer of justice ought not
to be boastful, lest he a should appear to have discharged the duties of s
benevolence, not so much from a desire of obeying the divine commands, as
of pleasing men, and should already have the reward of glory which he has
aimed at, and should not receive the recompense of that heavenly and divine
reward. The other things which the worshipper of God ought to observe are
easy, when these virtues are comprehended, that no one should ever speak
falsely for the sake of deceiving or injuring. For it is unlawful for him
who cultivates truth to be deceitful in anything, and to depart from the
truth itself which he follows. In this path of justice and all the virtues
there is no place for falsehood. Therefore the true and just traveller will
not use the saying of Lucilius:(3)--
"It is not for me to speak falsely to a man who is a friend and
acquaintance;"
but he will think that it is not his part to speak falsely even to an enemy
and a stranger; nor will he at any time so act, that his tongue, which is
the interpreter of his mind, should be at variance with his feeling and
thought. If he shall have lent any money, he will not receive interest,
that the benefit may be unimpaired t which succours necessity, and that he
may entirely abstain from the property of another. For in this kind of
duty he ought to be content with that which is his own; since it is his
duty in other respects not to be sparing of his property, in order that he
may do good; but to receive more than he has given is unjust. And he who
does this lies in wait in some manner, that he may gain booty from the
necessity of another.
But the just man will omit no opportunity of doing anything mercifully:
nor will he pollute himself with gain of this kind; but he will so act that
without any loss to himself, that which he lends may be reckoned among his
good works. He must not receive a gift from a poor man; so that if he
himself has afforded anything, it may be good, inasmuch as it is
gratuitous. If any one reviles, he must answer him with a blessing;(4) he
himself must never revile, that no evil word may proceed out of the mouth
of a man who reverences the good Word.(5) Moreover, he must also diligently
take care, lest by any fault of his he should at any time make an enemy;
and if any one should be so shameless as to inflict injury on a good and
just man, he must bear it with calmness and moderation, and not take upon
himself his revenge, but reserve it for the judgment of God.(6) He must at
all times and in all places guard innocence. And this precept is not
limited to this, that lie should not himself inflict injury, but that lie
should not avenge it when inflicted on himself. For there sits on the
judgment-seat a very great and impartial Judge, the observer and witness of
all. Let him prefer Him to man; let him rather choose that He should
pronounce judgment respecting his cause, whose sentence no one can escape,
either by the advocacy of any one or by favour. Thus it comes to pass, that
a just man is an object of contempt to all; and because it will be thought
that he is unable to defend himself, he will be regarded as slothful and
inactive; but if any one shall have avenged himself upon his enemy, he is
judged a man of spirit and activity--aIl honour and reverence him. And
although the good man has it in his power to profit many, yet they look up
to him who is able to injure, rather than to him who is able to profit. But
the depravity of men will not be able to corrupt the just man, so that he
will not endeavour to obey God; and he would prefer to be despised,
provided that he may always discharge the duty of a good man, and never of
a bad man. Cicero says in those same books respecting Offices: "But if any
one should wish to unravel this indistinct conception of his soul,(1) let
him at once teach himself that he is a good man who profits those whom he
can, and injures no one(2) unless provoked by injury."
Oh how he marred a simple and true sentiment by the addition of two
words! For what need was there of adding these words, "unless provoked by
injury?" that he might append vice as a most disgraceful tail to a good man
and might represent him as without patience, which is the greatest of all
the virtues. He said that a good man would inflict injuries if he were
provoked: now he must necessarily lose the name of a good man from this
very circumstance, if he shall inflict injury. For it is not less the part
of a bad man to return an injury than to inflict it. For from what source
do contests, from what source do fightings and contentions, arise among
men, except that impatience opposed to injustice often excites great
tempests? But if you meet injustice with patience, than which virtue
nothing can be found more true, nothing more worthy of a man, it will
immediately be extinguished, as though you should pour water upon a fire.
But if that injustice which provokes opposition has met with impatience
equal(3) to itself, as though overspread with oil, it will excite so great
a conflagration, that no stream can extinguish it, but only the shedding of
blood. Great, therefore, is the advantage of patience, of which the wise
man has deprived the good man. For this alone causes that no evil happens;
and if it should be given to all, there will be no wickedness and no fraud
in the affairs of men. What, therefore, can be so calamitous to a good
man, so opposed to his character, as to let loose the reins to anger, which
deprives him not only of the title of a good man, but even of a man; since
to injure another, as he himself most truly says, is not in accordance with
the nature of man? For if you provoke cattle or horses,(4) they turn
against you either with their hoof or their horn; and serpents and wild
beasts, unless you pursue them that you may kill them, give no trouble. And
to return to examples of men, even the inexperienced and the foolish, if at
any time they receive an injury, are led by a blind and irrational fury,
and endeavour to retaliate upon those who injure them. In what respect,
then, does the wise and good man differ from the evil and foolish, except
that he has invincible patience, of which the foolish are destitute; except
that he knows how to govern himself, and to mitigate his anger, which
those, because they are without virtue, are unable to curb? But this
circumstance manifestly deceived him, because, when inquiry is made
respecting virtue, he thought that it is the part of virtue to conquer in
every kind of contention. Nor was he able in any way to see, that a man who
gives way to grief and anger, and who indulges these affections, against
which he ought rather to struggle, and who rushes wherever injustice shall
have called him, does not fulfil the duty of virtue. For he who endeavours
to return an injury, desires to imitate that very person by whom he has
been injured. Thus he who imitates a bad man can by no means be good.
Therefore by two words he has taken away from the good and wise man two
of the greatest virtues, innocence and patience. But, as Sallustius relates
was said by Appius, because he himself practised that canine s eloquence,
be wished man also to live after the manner of a dog, so as, when attacked,
to bite in return. And to show how pernicious this repayment of insult is,
and what carnage it is accustomed to produce, from what can a more
befitting example be sought, than from the most melancholy disaster of the
teacher himself, who, while he desired to obey these precepts of the
philosophers, destroyed himself? For if, when attacked with injury, he had
preserved patience--if he had learned that it is the part of a good man to
dissemble and to endure insult, and his impatience, vanity, and madness had
not poured forth those noble orations, inscribed with a name derived from
another source,(6) he would never, by his head affixed to them, have
polluted the rostra on which he had formerly distinguished himself, nor
would that proscription have utterly destroyed the state. Therefore it is
not the part of a wise and good man to wish to contend, and to commit
himself to danger, since to conquer is not in our power, and every contest
is doubtful; but it is the part of a wise and excellent man not to wish to
remove his adversary, which cannot be done without guilt and danger, but to
put an end to the contest itself, which may be done with advantage and with
justice. Therefore patience is to be regarded as a very great virtue; and
that the just man might obtain this, God willed, as has been before said,
that he should be despised as sluggish. For unless he shall have been
insulted, it will not be known what fortitude he has in restraining
himself. Now if, when provoked by injury, he has begun to follow up his
assailant with violence, he is overcome. But if he shall have repressed
that emotion by reasoning, he altogether has command over himself: he is
able to rule himself. And this restraining(1) of oneself is rightly named
patience, which single virtue is opposed to all vices and affections. This
recalls the disturbed and wavering mind to its tranquillity; this
mitigates, this restores a man to himself. Therefore, since it is
impossible and useless to resist nature, so that we are not excited at all;
before, however, the emotion bursts forth to the infliction of injury, as
far(2) as is possible let it be calmed(3) in time. God has enjoined us not
to let the sun go down upon our wrath,(4) lest he should depart as a
witness of our madness. Finally, Marcus Tullius, in opposition to his own
precept, concerning which I have lately spoken, gave the greatest praises
to the forgetting of injuries. "I entertain hopes," he says, "O Caesar, who
art accustomed to forget nothing except injuries."(5) But if he thus acted-
-a man most widely removed not only front heavenly, but also from public
and civil justice--how much more ought we to do this, who are, as it were,
candidates for immortality?
CHAP. XIX.--OF THE AFFECTIONS AND THEIR USE; AND OF THE THREE FURIES.
When the Stoics attempt to uproot the affections from man as diseases,
they are opposed by the Peripatetics, who not only retain, but also defend
them, and say that there is nothing in man which is not produced in him
with great reason and foresight. They say this indeed rightly, if they
know the true limits of each subject. Accordingly they say that this very
affection of anger is the whetstone of virtue, as though no one could
fight bravely against enemies unless he were excited by anger; by which
they plainly show that they neither know what virtue is, nor why God gave
anger to man. And if this was given to us for this purpose, that we may
employ it for the slaying of men, what is to be thought more savage than
man, what more resembling the wild beasts, than that animal which God
formed for communion and innocence? There are, then, three affections which
drive men headlong to all crimes:(1) anger,(2) desire, and (3) lust.(6) On
which account the poets have said that there are three furies which harass
the minds of men: anger longs for revenge, desire for riches, lust for
pleasures. But God has appointed fixed limits to all of these; and if they
pass these limits and begin to be too great, they must necessarily pervert
their nature, and be changed into diseases and vices. And it is a matter of
no great labour to show what these limits are.(7) Cupidity(8) is given us
for providing those things which are necessary for life; con-cupiscence,(9)
for the procreation of offspring; the affection of indignation,(10) for
restraining the faults of those who are in our power, that is, in order
that tender age may be formed by a severer discipline to integrity and
justice: for if this time of life is not restrained by fear,(11) licence
will produce boldness, and this will break out into every disgraceful and
daring action. Therefore, as it is both just and necessary to employ anger
towards the young, so it is both pernicious and impious to use it towards
those of our own age. It is impious, because humanity is injured;
pernicious, because if they oppose, it is necessary either to destroy them
or to perish. But that this which I have spoken of is the reason why the
affection of anger has been given to man, may be understood from the
precepts of God Himself, who commands that we should not be angry with
those who revile and injure us, but that we should always have our hands
over the young; that is, that when they err, we should correct them with
continual stripes,(12) lest by useless love and excessive indulgence they
should be trained to evil and nourished to vices. But those who are
inexperienced in affairs and ignorant of reason, have expelled those
affections which have been given to man for good uses, and they wander more
widely than reason demands. From this cause they live unjustly and
impiously. They employ anger against their equals in age: hence
disagreements, hence banishments, hence wars have arisen contrary to
justice. They use desire for the amassing of riches: hence frauds, hence
robberies, hence all kinds of crimes have originated. They use lust only
for the enjoyment of pleasures: hence debaucheries, hence adulteries, hence
all corruptions have proceeded. Whoever, therefore, has reduced those
affections within their proper limits, which they who are ignorant of God
cannot do, he is patient, he is brave, he is just.(1)
CHAP. XX.--OFTHE SENSES, AND THEIR PLEASURES IN THEBRUTES AND IN MAN; AND
OF PLEASURES OFTHE EYES, AND SPECTACLES.
It remains that I should speak against the pleasures of the five
senses, and this briefly, for the measure of the book itself now demands
moderation; all of which, since they are vicious and deadly, ought to be
overcome and subdued by virtue, or, as I said a little before respecting
the affections, be recalled to their proper office. The other animals have
no pleasure, except the one only which relates to generation. Therefore
they use their senses for the necessity of their nature: they see, in order
that they may seek those things which are necessary for the preservation of
life; they hear one another, and distinguish one another, that they may be
able to assemble together; they either discover from the smell, or perceive
from the taste, the things which are useful for food; they refuse and
reject the things which are useless, they measure the business of eating
and drinking by the fulness of their stomach. But the foresight of the most
skilful Creator gave to man pleasure without limit, and liable to fall
into vice, because He set before him virtue, which might always be at
variance with pleasure, as with a domestic enemy. Cicero says, in the Cato
Major:(2) "In truth, debaucheries, and adulteries, and disgraceful actions
are excited by no other enticements than those of pleasure. And since
nature or some God has given to man nothing more excellent than the mind,
nothing is so hostile to this divine benefit and gift as pleasure. For when
lust bears sway there is no place for temperance, nor can virtue have any
existence when pleasure reigns supreme." But, on the other hand, God gave
virtue on this account, that it might subdue and conquer pleasure, and
that, when it passed the boundaries assigned to it, it might restrain it
within the prescribed limits, lest it should soothe and captivate man with
enjoyments, render him subject to its control, and punish him with
everlasting death.
The pleasure arising from the eyes is various and manifold, which is
derived from the sight of objects which are pleasant in intercourse with
men, or in nature or workmanship. The philosophers rightly took this away.
For they say that it is much more excellent and worthy of man to look upon
the heaven(3) rather than carved works, and to admire this most beautiful
work adorned with the lights of the stars shining through,(4) as with
flowers, than to admire things painted and moulded, and varied with jewels.
But when they have eloquently exhorted us to despise earthly things, and
have urged us to look up to the heaven, nevertheless they do not despise
these public spectacles. Therefore they are both delighted with these, and
are gladly present at them; though, since they are the greatest incitement
to vices, and have a most powerful tendency to corrupt our minds, they
ought to be taken away from us; for they not only contribute in no respect
to a happy life, but even inflict the greatest injury. For he who reckons
it a pleasure, that a man, though justly condemned, should be slain in his
sight, pollutes his conscience as much as if he should become a spectator
and a sharer of a homicide which is secretly committed.(5) And yet they
call these sports in which human blood is shed. So far has the feeling of
humanity departed from the men, that when they destroy the lives of men,
they think that they are amusing themselves with sport, being more guilty
than all those whose blood-shedding they esteem a pleasure. I ask now
whether they can be just and pious men, who, when they see men placed under
the stroke of death, and entreating mercy, not only suffer them to be put
to death, but also demand it, and give cruel and inhuman votes for their
death, not being satiated with wounds nor contented with bloodshed.
Moreover, they order them, even though wounded and prostrate, to be
attacked again, and their caresses to he wasted(6) with blows, that no one
may delude them by a pretended death. They are even angry with the
combatants, unless one of the two is quickly slain; and as though they
thirsted for human blood, they hate delays. They demand that other and
fresh combatants should be given to them, that they may satisfy their eyes
as soon as possible. Being imbued with this practice, they have lost their
humanity. Therefore they do not spare even the innocent, but practise upon
all that which they have learned in the slaughter of the wicked. It is not
therefore befitting that those who strive to keep to the path of justice
should be companions and sharers in this public homicide. For when God
forbids us to kill, He not only prohibits us from open violence,(1) which
is not even allowed by the public laws, but He warns us against the
commission of those things which are esteemed lawful among men. Thus it
will be neither lawful for a just man to engage in warfare, since his
warfare is justice itself, nor to accuse any one of a capital charge,
because it makes no difference whether you put a man to death by word, or
rather by the sword, since it is the act of putting to death itself(2)
which is prohibited. Therefore, with regard to this precept of God, there
ought to be no exception at all but that it is always unlawful to put to
death a man, whom God willed to be a sacred animal.(3)
Therefore let no one imagine that even this is allowed, to strangle(4)
newly-born children, which is the greatest impiety; for God breathes into
their souls for life, and not for death. But men, that there may be no
crime with which they may not pollute their hands, deprive souls as yet
innocent and simple of the light which they themselves have not given. Can
any one, indeed, expect that they would abstain from the blood of others
who do not abstain even from their own? But these are without any
controversy wicked and unjust. What are they whom a false piety(5) compels
to expose their children? Can they be considered innocent who expose their
own offspring(6) as a prey to dogs, and as far as it depends upon
themselves, kill them in a more cruel manner than if they had strangled
them? Who can doubt that he is impious who gives occasion(7) for the pity
of others? For, although that which he has wished should befall the child--
namely, that it should be brought up--he has certainly consigned his own
offspring either to servitude or to the brothel? But who does not
understand, who is ignorant what things may happen, or are accustomed to
happen, in the case of each sex, even through error? For this is shown by
the example of OEdipus alone, confused with twofold guilt. It is therefore
as wicked to expose as it is to kill. But truly parricides complain of the
scantiness of their means, and allege that they have not enough for
bringing up more children; as though, in truth, their means were in the
power of those who possess them, or God did not daily make the rich poor,
and the poor rich. Wherefore, if any one on account of poverty shall be
unable to bring up children, it is better to abstain from marriage s than
with wicked hands to mar the work of God.
If, then, it is in no way permitted to commit homicide, it is not
allowed us to be present at all,(9) lest any bloodshed should overspread
the conscience, since that blood is offered for the gratification of the
people. And I am inclined to think that the corrupting influence of the
stage is still more contaminating.(10) For the subject of comedies are the
dishonouring of virgins, or the loves of harlots; and the more eloquent
they are who have composed the accounts of these disgraceful actions, the
more do they persuade by the elegance of their sentiments; and harmonious
and polished verses more readily remain fixed in the memory of the hearers.
In like manner, the stories of the tragedians place before the eyes the
parricides and incests of wicked kings, and represent tragic(11) crimes.
And what other effect do the immodest gestures of the players produce, but
both teach and excite lusts? whose enervated bodies, rendered effeminate
after the gait and dress of women, imitate(12) unchaste women by their
disgraceful gestures. Why should I speak of the actors of mimes,(13) who
hold forth instruction in corrupting influences, who teach adulteries while
they feign them, and by pretended actions train to those which are true?
What can young men or virgins do, when they see that these things are
practised without shame, and willingly beheld by all? They are plainly
admonished of what they can do, and are inflamed with lust, which is
especially excited by seeing; and every one according to his sex forms(14)
himself in these representations. And they approve of these things, while
they laugh at them, and with vices clinging to them, they return more
corrupted to their apartments; and not boys only, who ought not to be
inured to vices prematurely, but also old men, whom it does not become at
their age to sin.
What else does the practice of the Circensian games contain but levity,
vanity, and madness? For their souls are hurried away to mad excitement
with as great impetuosity as that with which the chariot races are there
carried on; so that they who come for the sake of beholding the spectacle
now themselves exhibit more of a spectacle, when they begin to utter
exclamations, to be thrown into transports, and to leap from their seats.
Therefore all spectacles ought to be avoided, not only that no vice may
settle in our breasts, which ought to be tranquil and peaceful; but that
the habitual indulgence of any pleasure may not soothe and captivate us,
and turn us aside from God and from good works.(1) For the celebrations of
the games are festivals in honour of the gods, inasmuch as they were
instituted on account of their birthdays, or the dedication of new
temples. And at first the huntings, which are called shows, were in honour
of Saturnus, and the scenic games in honour of Liber, but the Circensian in
honour of Neptune. By degrees, however, the same honour began to be paid
also to the other gods, and separate games were dedicated to their names,
as Sisinnius Capita teaches in his book on the games. Therefore, if any one
is present at the spectacles to which men assemble for the sake of
religion, he has departed from the worship of God, and has be-taken himself
to those deities whose birthdays and festivals he has celebrated.(2)
CHAP. XXI.--OF THE PLEASURES OF THE EARS, AND OF SACRED LITERATURE.
Pleasure of the ears is received from the sweetness of voices and
strains, which indeed is as productive of vice as that delight of the eyes
of which we have spoken. For who would not deem him luxurious anti
worthless who should have scenic arts at his house? But it makes no
difference whether you practise luxury alone at home, or with the people in
the theatre. But we have already spoken of spectacles:(3) there remains one
thing which is to be overcome by us, that we be not captivated by those
things which penetrate to the innermost perception. For all those things
which are unconnected with words, that is, pleasant sounds of the air and
of strings, may be easily disregarded, because they do not adhere to its,
and cannot be written. But a well-composed poem, and a speech be-guiling
with its sweetness, captivate the minds of men, and impel them in what
direction they please. Hence, when learned men have applied themselves to
the religion of God, unless they have been instructed by some skilful
teacher, they do not believe. For, being accustomed to sweet and polished
speeches or poems, they de spise the simple and common language of the
sacred writings as mean. For they seek that t which may soothe the senses.
But whatever is e pleasant to the ear effects persuasion, and while it
delights fixes itself deeply within the breast. Is God, therefore, the
contriver both of the mind, and of the voice, and of the tongue, unable to
speak eloquently? Yea, rather, with the greatest foresight, He wished those
things which are divine to be without adornment, that all might understand
the things which He Himself spoke to all.
Therefore he who is anxious for the truth, who does not wish to deceive
himself, must lay aside hurtful and injurious pleasures, which would bind
the mind to themselves, as pleasant food does the body: true things must be
preferred to false, eternal things to those which are of short duration,
useful things to those which are pleasant. Let nothing be pleasing to the
sight but that which you see to be done with piety and justice; let nothing
be agreeable to the hearing but that which nourishes the soul and makes
you a better man. And especially this sense ought not to be distorted to
vice, since it is given to us for this pur pose, that we might gain the
knowledge of God. Therefore, if it be a pleasure to hear melodies and
songs, let it be pleasant to sing and hear the praises of God. This is true
pleasure, which is the attendant and companion of virtue. This is not frail
and brief, as those which they desire, who, like cattle, are slaves to the
body; but lasting, and affording delight without any intermission. And if
any one shall pass its limits, and shall seek nothing else from pleasure
but pleasure itself, he designs for himself death; for as there is
perpetual life in virtue, so there is death in pleasure. For he who shall
choose temporal things will be without things eternal; he who shall prefer
earthly things will not have heavenly things.
CHAP. XXII.--OF THE PLEASURES OF TASTE AND SMELL.
But with regard to the pleasures of taste and smell, which two senses
relate only to the body, there is nothing to be discussed by us; unless by
chance any one requires us to say that it is dis graceful to a wise and
good man if he is the slave of his appetite, if he walks along besmeared
with unguents and crowned with flowers: and he who does these things is
plainly foolish and senseless, and is worthless, and one whom not even a
notion of virtue has reached. Perhaps some one will say, Why, then, have
these things been made, except that we may enjoy them? However, it has
often been said that there would have been no virtue unless it had things
which it might overpower. Therefore God made all things to supply a contest
between two things. Those enticements of pleasures, then, are the
instruments of that whose only business it is to subdue virtue, and to shut
out justice from men. With these soothing influences and enjoyments it
captivates their souls; for it knows that pleasure is the contriver of
death. For as God calls man to life only through virtue and labour, so the
other calls us to death by delights and pleasures; and as men arrive at
real good through deceitful evils, so they arrive at real evil through
deceitful goods. Therefore those enjoyments are to be guarded against, as
snares or nets, lest, captivated by the softness of enjoyments, we should
be brought under the dominion of death with the body itself, to which we
have enslaved ourselves.
CHAP. XXIII.(1)--DE TACTUS VOLUPTATE ET LIBIDINE, ATQUE DE MATRIMONIO ET
CONTINENTIA.
Venio nunc ad eam, quae percipitur ex tactu, voluptatem: qui sensus est
quidem totius corporis. Sed ego non de ornamentis, aut vestibus, sed de
sola libidine dicendum mihi puto; qum maxime coercenda est, quia maxime
nocet. Cure excogitasset Deus duorum sexuum rationero, attribuit iis, ut se
invicem appeterent, et conjunctione gauderent. Itaque ardentissimam
cupiditatem cunctorum animantium corporibus admiscuit, ut in hos affectus
avidissime ruerent, eaque ratione propagari et multiplicari genera possent.
Quae cupiditas et appetentia in homine vehementior et acrior invenitur; vel
quia hominum multitudinem voluit esse majorem, vel quoniam virtutem soli
homini dedit, ut esset laus et gloria in coercendis voluptatibus, et
abstinentia sui. Seit ergo adversarius ille noster, quanta sit vis hujus
cupiditatis, quam quidam necessitatem dicere maluerunt; eamque a recto et
bono, ad malum et pravum transfert. Illicita enim desideria immittit, ut
aliena contaminent, quibus habere propria sine delicto licet. Objicit
quippe oculis irritabiles formas, suggeritque fomenta, et vitiis pabulum
subministrat: tum intimis visceribus stimulos omnes conturbat et commovet,
et naturalem illum incitat atque inflammat ardorem, donee irretitum hominem
implicatumque decipiat. Ac ne quis esset, qui poenarum metu abstineret
alieno, lupanaria quoque constituit; et pudorem infelicium mulierum
publicavit, ut ludibrio haberet tam eos qui faciunt, quam quas pati necesse
est.
His obscoenitatibus animas, ad sanctitatem genitas, velut in coeni
gurgite demersit, pudorem extinxit, pudicitiam profligavit. Idem etiam
mares maribus admiscuit; et nefandos coitus contra naturam contraque
institutum Dei machinatus est: sic imbuit homines, et armavit ad nefas
omne. Quid enim potest esse sanctum iis, qui aetatem imbecillam et
praesidio indigentem, libidini suae depopulandam foedandamque
substraverint? Non potest haec res pro magnitudine sceleris enarrari. Nihil
amplius istos appellare possum, quam implos et parricidas, quibus non
sufficit sexus a Deo datus, nisi eliare suum profane ac petulanter
illudant. Haec tamen apud illos levia, et quasi honesta sunt. Quid dicam de
iis, qui abominandam non libidinem, sod insaniam potius exercent! Piget
dicere: sed quid his fore credamus, quos non piget facere? et tamen
dicendum est, quia fit. De istis loquor, quorum teterrima libido et
execrabilis furor ne capiti quidem parcit. Quibus hoc verbis, aut qua
indignatione tantum nefas prosequar? Vincit officium linguae sceleris
magnitudo. Cum igitur libido haec edat opera, et haec facinora designer,
armandi adversus earn virtute maxima sumus. Quisquis affectus illos
fraenare non potest, cohibeat eos intra praescriptum legitimi tori, ut et
illud, quod avide expetat, consequatur, et tamen in peccatum non incidat.
Nam quid sibi homines perditi volunt? Nempe honesta opera voluptas
sequitur: si ipsam per se appetunt, justa et legitima frui licet.
Quod si aliqua necessitas prohibebit tum vero maxima adhibenda virtus
erit, ut cupiditati continentia reluctetur. Nec tanturn alienis, quae
attingere non licet, veriun etiam publicis vulgatisque corporibus
abstinendum, Deus praecepit; docetque nos, cum duo inter se corpora fuerint
copulata, unum corpus efficere. Ita qui se coeno immerserit, coeno sit
oblitus necesse est; et corpus quidem cito ablui potest: mens autem
contagione impudici corporis inquinata non potest, nisi et longo tempore,
et multis bonis operibus, ab ea quae inhaeserit colluvione purgari. Oportet
ergo sibi quemque proponere, duorum sexuum conjunctionem generandi causa
datam esse viventibus, eamque legera his affectibus positam, ut
successionera parent. Sicut autem dedit nobis oculos Deus, non ut
spectemus, voluptatemque capiamus, sed ut videamus propter eos actus, qui
pertinent ad vitae necessitatem, ita genitalem corporis partem, quod nomen
ipsum docet, nulla alia causa nisi efficiendae sobolis accepimus. Huic
divinae legi summa devotione parendum est. Sint omnes, qui se discipulos
Dei profitebuntur, ita morati et instituti, ut imperare sibi possint. Nam
qui voluptatibus indulgent, qui libidini obsequuntur, ii animam suam
corpori mancipant, ad mortemque condemnant: quia se corpori addixerunt, in
quod habet mors potestatem. Unusquisque igitur, quantum potest, formet se
ad verecundiam, pudorem colat, castitatem conscientia et mente tueatur; nec
tantum legibus publicis pareat: sed sit supra omnes leges, qui legem Dei
sequitur. Quibus bonis si assueverit, jam pudebit eum ad deteriora
desciscere: modo placeant recta et honesta, quae melioribus jucundiora sunt
quam prava et inhonesta pejoribus.
Nondum omnia castitatis officio exsecutus sum: quam Deus fion modo
intra privatos parietes, sed etiam praescripto lectuli terminat; ut cum
quis hobeat uxorem, neque servam, neque liberam habere insuper velit, sed
matrimonio fidem server. Non enim, sicut juris publici ratio est, solo
mulier adultera est, quae habet allure, maritus outem, etiam si plures
habeat, a crimine adulterii solutus est. Sed divina lex ira duos in
matrimonium, quod est in corpus unum, pari jure conjungit, ut adulter
habeatur, quisquis compagem corporis in diversa distraxerit. Nec ob aliam
cansam Deus, cam caeteras animantes suscepto foetu maribus repugnare
voluisset, solam omnium mulierem patientem viri fecit; scilicet ne foeminis
repugnantibus, libido cogeret viros aliud appetere, eoque facto, castitatis
gloriam non tenerent.(1) Sed neque mulier virtutem pudicitiae caperet, si
peccare non posset. Nam quis mutum animal pudicum esse dixerit, quod
suscepto foetu mari repugnat? Quod ideo facit, quia necesse est in dolorem
atque in periculum veniat, si admiserit. Nulla igitur Iaus est, non facere
quod facere non possis. Ideo autem pudicitia in homine laudatur, quia non
naturalis est, sed voluntaria. Servanda igitur fides ab utroque alteri est:
immo exemplo continentia: docenda uxor, ut se caste gerat. Iniquum est
enim, ut id exigas, quod praestare ipse non possis. Quae iniquitas effecit
profecto, ut essent adulteria, foeminis aegre ferentibus praestare se fidem
non exhibentibus mutuam charitatem. Denique nulla est tam perditi pudoris
adultera, quae non hanc causam vitiis suis praetendat; injuriam se peccando
non facere, sed referre. Quod optime Quintilianus expressit: Homo, inquit,
neque alieni matrimonii abstinens, neque sui custos, quae inter se natura.
connexa sunt. Nam neque maritus circa corrumpendas aliorum conjuges
occupatus potest vacare domesticae sanctitati; et uxor, cum in tale incidit
matrimonium, exemplo ipso concitara, out imitari se putat, out vindicari.
Cavendum igitur, ne occasionem vitiis nostra intemperantia demus: sed
assuescant invicem mores duorum, et jugum paribus animis ferant. Nos ipsos
in altero cogitemus. Nam fere in hoc justitiae summa consistit, ut non
facias alteri, quidquid ipse ab altero pati nolis. Haec sunt quae ad
continentiam praecipiuntur a Deo. Sed tamen ne quis divina praecepta
circumscribere se putet posse, adduntur ilia, ut omnis calumnia, et occasio
fraudis removeatur, adulterum esse, qui a marito dimissam duxerit, et eum
qui praeter crimen adulterii uxorem dimiserit, ut alteram ducat;
dissociari enim corpus et distrahi Deus noluit. Praeterea non tanturn
adulterium esse vitandum, sed etiam cogitationem; ne quis aspiciat alienam,
et animo concupiscat: adulteram enim fieri mentem, si vel imaginem
voluptatis sibi ipsa depinxerit. Mens est enim profecto quae peccat; quae
immoderata: libidinis fructum cogitatione complectitur; in hac crimen est,
in hac omne delictum. Nam etsi corpus nulla sit lobe maculatum, non constat
tamen pudicitiae ratio, si animus incestus est; nec illibata castitas
videri potest, ubi conscientiam cupiditas inquinavit. Nec verb aliquis
existimet, difficile esse fraenos imponere voluptati, eamque vagam et
errantem castitatis pudicitiaeque limitibus includere, cum propositum sit
hominibus etiam vincere, ac plurimi beatam atque incorruptam corporis
integritatem retinuerint, multique sint, qui hoc coelesti genere vitae
felicissime perfruantur. Quod quidem Deus non ira fieri praecepit, tanquam
astringat, quia generari homines oportet; sed tanquam sinat. Scit enim,
quantam his affectibus imposuerit necessitatem. Si quis hoc, inquit, facere
potuerit, habebit eximiam incomparabilemque mercedem. Quod continentiae
genus quasi fastigium est, omniumque consummatio virtutum. Ad quam si quis
eniti atque eluctari potuerit, hunc servum dominus, hunc discipulum
magister agnoscet; hic terrain triumphabit, hic erit consimilis Deo, qui
virtutem Dei cepit. Haec quidem difficilia videntur; sed de eo loquimur,
cui calcatis omnibus terrenis, iter in coelum paratur. Nam quia virtus in
Dei agnitione consistit, omnia gravia sunt, dum ignores; ubi cognoveris,
facilia: per ipsas difficultates nobis exeundum est, qui ad summum bonum
tendimus.
CHAP. XXIV.--OF REPENTANCE, OF PARDON, AND THE COMMANDS OF GOD.
Nor, however, let any one be disheartened, or despair concerning
himself, if, overcome by passion, or impelled by desire, or deceived by
error, or compelled by force, he has turned aside to the way of
unrighteousness. For it is possible for him to be brought back, and to be
set free, if he repents of his actions, and, turning to better things,
makes satisfaction to God. Cicero, indeed. thought that this was
impossible, whose words in the third book of the Academics(2) are: "But if,
as in the case of those who have gone astray on a journey, it were
permitted those who have followed a devious course to correct their error
by repentance, it would be more easy to amend rashness." It is altogether
permitted them. For if we think that our children are corrected when we
perceive that they repent of their faults, and though we have disinherited
and cast them off, we again receive, cherish, and embrace them, why should
we despair that the mercy of God our Father may again be appeased by
repentance? Therefore He who is at once tile Lord and most indulgent Parent
promises that He will remit the sins of the penitent, and that He will blot
out all the iniquities of him who shall begin afresh to practise
righteousness. For as the uprightness of his past life is of no avail to
him who lives badly, because the subsequent wickedness has destroyed his
works of righteousness, so former sins do not stand in the way of him who
has amended his life, because the subsequent righteousness has effaced the
stain of his former life. For he who repents of that which he has done,
understands his former error; and on this account the Greeks better and
more significantly speak of metanoia,(1) which we may speak of in Latin ass
return to a right understanding.(2) For he returns to a right
understanding, and recovers his mind as it were from madness, who is
grieved for his error; and he reproves himself of madness, and confirms his
mind to a better course of life: then he especially guards against this
very thing, that he may not again be led into the same snares. In short,
even the dumb animals, when they are ensnared by fraud, if by any means
they have extricated themselves so as to escape, become more cautious for
the future, and always avoid all those things in which they have perceived
wiles and snares. Thus repentance makes a man cautious and diligent to
avoid the faults into which he has once fallen through deceit.
For no one can be so prudent and so circumspect as not at some time to
slip; and therefore God, knowing our weakness, of His compassion(3) has
opened a harbour of refuge for man, that the medicine of repentance might
aid this necessity to which our frailty is liable.(4) Therefore, if any one
has erred, let him retrace his step, and as soon as possible recover and
reform himself.
"But upward to retrace the way,
And pass into the light of day,
Then comes the stress of labour."(5)
For when men have tasted sweet pleasures to their destruction,(6) they can
scarcely be separated from them: they would more easily follow right things
if they had not tasted their attractions. But if they tear themselves away
from this pernicious slavery, all their error will be forgiven them, if
they shall have corrected their error by a better life. And let not any one
imagine that he is a gainer if he shall have no witness of his fault: for
all things are known to Him in whose sight we live; and if we are able to
conceal anything from all men, we cannot conceal it from God, to whom
nothing can be hidden, nothing secret. Seneca closed his exhortations with
an admirable sentiment: "There is," he says," some great deity, and greater
than can be imagined; and for him we endeavour to live. Let us approve
ourselves to him. For it is of no avail that conscience is confirmed; we
lie open to the sight of God." What can be spoken with greater truth by him
who knew God, than has been said by a man who is ignorant of true religion?
For he both expressed the majesty of God, by saying that it is too great
for the reflecting powers of the human mind to receive; and he touched upon
the very fountain of truth, by perceiving that the life of men is not
superfluous,(7) as the Epicureans will have it, but that they make it their
endeavour to live to God, if indeed they live with justice and piety. He
might have been a true worshipper of God, if any one had pointed out to him
God;(8) and he might assuredly have despised Zeno, and his teacher Sotion,
if he had obtained a true guide of wisdom. Let us approve ourselves to him,
he says. A speech truly heavenly, had it not been preceded by a confession
of ignorance. It is of no avail that conscience is confined; we lie open to
the sight of God. There is then no room for falsehood, none for
dissimulation; for the eyes of men are removed by walls, but the divine
power of God cannot be removed by the inward parts from looking through and
knowing the entire man. The same writer says, in the first book of the same
work: "What are you doing? what are you contriving? what are you hiding?
Your guardian follows you; one is withdrawn from you by foreign travel,
another by death, another by infirm health; this one adheres to you, and
you can never be without him. Why do you choose a secret place, and remove
the witness? Suppose that yon have succeeded in escaping the notice of all,
foolish man! What does it profit you not to have a witness,(9) if you have
the witness of your own conscience?
And Tully speaks in a manner no less remarkable concerning conscience
and God: "Let him remember," he says, "that he has God as a witness, that
is, as I judge, his own mind, than which God has given nothing more divine
to man."(1) Likewise, in speaking of the just and good man, he says:
"Therefore such a man will not dare not merely to do, but even to think,
anything which he would not dare to proclaim." Therefore let us cleanse our
conscience, which is open to the eyes of God; and, as the same writer says,
"let us always so live as to remember that we shall have to give an
account;"(2) and let us reckon that we are looked upon at every moment,
not, as he said, in some theatre of the world by men, but from above by Him
who is about to be both the judge and also the witness, to whom, when He
demands an account of our life, it will not be permitted any one to deny
his actions. Therefore it is better either to flee from conscience, or
ourselves to open our mind of our own accord, and tearing open our wounds
to pour forth destruction; which wounds no one else can heat but He alone
who made the lame to walk, restored sight to the blind, cleansed the
polluted limbs, and raised the dead. He will quench the ardour of desires,
He will root out lusts, He will remove envy, He will mitigate anger. He
will give true and lasting health. This remedy should be sought by all,
inasmuch as the soul is harassed by greater danger than the body, and a
cure should be applied as soon as possible to secret diseases. For if any
one has his eyesight clear, all his limbs perfect, and his entire body in
the most vigorous health, nevertheless I should not call him sound if he is
carried away by anger, swollen and puffed up with pride, the slave of lust,
and burning with desires; but I should rather call him sound who does not
raise his eyes to the prosperity of another, who does not admire riches,
who looks upon another's wife with chaste eye, who covets nothing at all,
does not desire that which is another's, envies no one, disdains no one;
who is lowly, merciful, bountiful, mild, courteous: peace perpetually
dwells in his mind.
That man is sound, he is just, he is perfect. Whoever, therefore, has
obeyed all these heavenly precepts, he is a worshipper of the true God,
whose sacrifices are gentleness of spirit, and an innocent life, and good
actions. And he who exhibits all these qualities offers a sacrifice as
often as he performs any good and pious action. For God does not desire the
sacrifice of a dumb animal, nor of death and blood, but of man and life.
And to this sacrifice there is neither need of sacred boughs, nor of
purifications,(3) nor of sods of turf, which things are plainly most vain,
but of those things which are put forth from the innermost breast.
Therefore, upon the altar of God, which is truly very great,(4) and which
is placed in the heart of man, and cannot be defiled with blood, there is
placed righteousness, patience, faith, innocence, chastity, and abstinence.
This is the truest ceremony, this is that law of God, as it is called by
Cicero, illustrious and divine, which always commands things which are
right and honourable, and forbids things which are wrong and disgraceful;
and he who obeys this most holy and certain law cannot fail to live justly
and lawfully. And I have laid down a few chief points of this law, since I
promised that I would speak only of those: things which completed the
character(5) of virtue and righteousness. If any one shall wish to comprise
all the other parts, let him seek them from the fountain itself, from which
that stream flowed to us.
CHAP. XXV.--OF SACRIFICE, AND OF AN OFFERING WORTHY OF GOD, AND OF THE FORM
OF PRAISING GOD.
Now let us speak briefly concerning sacrifice itself. "Ivory," says
Plato, "is not a pure offering to God." What then? Are embroidered and
costly textures? Nay, rather nothing is a pure offering to God which can be
corrupted or taken away secretly. But as he saw this, that nothing which
was taken from a dead body ought to be offered to a living being, why did
he not see that a corporeal offering ought not to be presented to an
incorporeal being? How much better and more truly does Seneca speak: "Will
you think of God as great and placid, and a friend to be reverenced with
gentle majesty, and always at hand? not to be worshipped with the
immolation of victims and with much blood--for what pleasure arises from
the slaughter of innocent animals?--but with a pure mind and with a good
and honourable purpose. Temples are not to be built to Him with stones
piled up on high; He is to be consecrated by each man in his own breast."
Therefore, if any one thinks that garments, and jewels, and other things
which are esteemed precious, are valued by God, he is altogether ignorant
of what God is, since he thinks that those things are pleasing to Him which
even a man would be justly praised for despising. What, then, is pure, what
is worthy of God, but that which He Himself has demanded in that divine law
of His?
There are two things which ought to be offered, the gift(6) and the
sacrifice; the gift as a perpetual offering, the sacrifice for a time. But
with those who by no means understand the nature of the Divine Being, a
gift is anything which is wrought of gold or silver; likewise anything
which is woven of purple and silk: a sacrifice is a victim, and as many
things as are burnt upon the altar. But God does not make use either of the
one or the other, because He is free from corruption, and that is
altogether corruptible. Therefore, in each case, that which is incorporeal
must be offered to God, for He accepts this. His offering is innocency of
soul; His sacrifice praise and a hymn.(1) For if God is not seen, He ought
therefore to be worshipped with things which are not seen. Therefore no
other religion is true but that which consists of virtue and justice. But
in what manner God deals with the justice of man is easily understood. For
if man shall be just, having received immortality, he will serve God for
ever. But that men are not born except for justice, both the ancient
philosophers and even Cicero suspects. For, discussing the Laws,(2) he
says: "But of all things which are discussed by learned men, nothing
assuredly is of greater importance than that it should be entirely
understood that we are born to justice." We ought therefore to hold forth I
and offer to God that alone for the receiving of which He Himself produced
us. But how true this twofold kind of sacrifice is, Trismegistus Hermes is
a befitting witness, who agrees with us, that is, with the prophets, whom
we follow, as much in fact as in words. He thus spoke concerning justice:
"Adore and worship this word, O son." But the worship of God consists of
one thing, not to be wicked. Also in that perfect discourse, when he heard
Asclepius inquiring from his son whether it pleased him that incense and
other odours for divine sacrifice: were offered to his father, exclaimed:
"Speak words of good omen, O Asclepius. For it is the greatest impiety to
entertain any such thought concerning that being of pre-eminent goodness.
For these things, and things resembling these, are not adapted to Him. For
He is full of all things, as many as exist, and He has need of nothing at
all. But let us give Him thanks, and adore Him. For His sacrifice consists
only of blessing." And he spoke rightly.(3)
For we ought to sacrifice to God in word; inasmuch as God is the Word,
as He Himself confessed. Therefore the chief ceremonial in the worship of
God is praise from the mouth of a just man directed towards God.(3) That
this, however, may be accepted by God, there is need of humility, and fear,
and devotion in the greatest degree, lest any one should chance to place
confidence in his integrity and innocence, and thus incur the charge of
pride and arrogance, and by this deed lose the recompense of his virtue.
But that he may obtain the favour of God, and be free from every stain, let
him always implore the mercy of God, and pray for nothing else but pardon
for his sins, even though he has none.(4) If he desires anything else,
there is no need of expressing it in word to one who knows what we wish; if
anything good shall happen to him, let him give thanks; if any evil, let
him make amends,(5) and let him confess that the evil has happened to him
on account of his faults; and even in evils let him nothing less give
thanks, and make amends in good things, that he may be the same at all
times, and be firm, and unchangeable, and unshaken. And let him not suppose
that this is to be done by him only in the temple, but at home, and even in
his very bed. In short, let him always have God with himself, consecrated
in his heart, inasmuch as he himself is a temple of God. But if he has
served God, his Father and Lord, with this assiduity, obedience, and
devotion, justice is complete and perfect; and he who shall keep this, as
we before testified, has obeyed God, and has satisfied the obligations of
religion and his own duty.
Taken from "The Early Church Fathers and Other Works" originally published
by Wm. B. Eerdmans Pub. Co. in English in Edinburgh, Scotland beginning in
1867. (ANF 7, Roberts and Donaldson). The digital version is by The
Electronic Bible Society, P.O. Box 701356, Dallas, TX 75370, 214-407-WORD.
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